1296 – Frank 1 | Special Release from the SWM+ Vault
A sleepy read is shipped of a few letters home of friendship with Victor and in the future Frankie.
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Episode 1296 – Frank 1 | Special Release from the SWM+ Vault
[START OF RECORDING]
SCOOTER: Friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time for the podcaster who’s here to read you…or try…read you and reinterpret a story, which doesn't happen too often on this podcast. We did it over the holidays in 2023 and for Subscriber Summer we’ve been doing it, and this is a little piece of bonus content we’re putting out…'cause it’s actually a full episode. I’m gonna record a whole intro for it. We’re reading that famous book, Mary Shelley’s…the book Mary Shelley wrote that became…was cycled though my imagination and became that tale of Frankie and Victor.
We’re gonna read kinda the preamble or a couple letters at the start of that book. It’s gonna be sleepy, it’s gonna be snoozy, it’ll be a little bit silly, all to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff so you could fall asleep. That’s what Sleep With Me exists for. That’s the goal around the show, is to distract you, give you something to listen to, and then suddenly you find yourself falling asleep or waking up the next day. So, this show isn't about trying to fall asleep or giving you a method. It’s just giving you a friend or a mild distraction or something out there to listen to, to barely pay attention to, but kinda pay attention to. So, if you’re new, I’m glad you’re here. I work really hard on this show. I yearn and I strive. I really want to help you fall asleep.
The structure of the show, if you’re new, is…we got this greeting, then we got support so paying for the podcast is optional, then a long, meandering intro to ease you into bedtime, and then it’ll be our episode. Tonight will be a couple of the letters that set up the premise of the story or kinda the character…I don't know, it’s interesting and oh boy, is it snoozy, 'cause it’s a lot of…I don't know if it’s exposition or not. I think it…'cause it doesn't…I don't know. It’s a lot of talking, though, and a lot of talk about friendship and what friendship means to different characters. So, no…not a lot of Frankie in there. So, if you say, oh boy, I’m not into Frankie, I say, don't worry, there’s not…there’s almost no Frankie in this part of the story. That’s why I’m doing it. But if you are a super fan of this and of me reading in this fashion, there’s…this is…we’re gonna do the whole novel on Sleep With Me+.
Or if this is something you’re a fan of, let me know and, yeah, we can do more of it. But yeah, I’m really glad you’re here. I really hope this podcast can help. If you’re new, welcome. Regular listeners, so good to see you. What do you say…? Oh, these…this show, all of Sleep With Me, is made possible by listeners who support the show directly or direct-response sponsors, which means they base their support of the podcast on the listeners that support them. So, we’re really thankful. I mean, I would not be here…all the people…the work on the show is because of the listeners that we’re able to do this for you free twice a week. So, thanks so much, and here’s a couple of the ways we’re able to do it.
INTRO: [INTRO MUSIC] Hey, are you up all night tossing, turning, mind racing? Trouble getting to sleep? Trouble staying asleep? Well, welcome. This is Sleep With Me, the podcast that puts you to sleep. We do it with a bedtime story. Alls you need to do is get in bed, turn out the lights, and press Play. I’m gonna do the rest. What I’m going to attempt to do is create a safe place where you could set aside whatever’s keeping you awake.
It could be thoughts on your mind, thoughts about the past, the present, the future, thoughts you’re thinking about, thoughts that are on your mind, it could be feelings, anything coming up for you emotionally that’s keeping you from being able to sleep, it could be physical sensations, changes in time, temperature, routine, travel, guests, work schedule, you could be going through something or getting over something, whatever it is…anticipating something…the only reason I list that stuff is 'cause a lot of times, even for me, it’s not even any of those things, but sometimes it’s some of them or all of them. But it’s also something a little bit out of my reach of even describing in the podcast. Like, last night…or, well, yeah, I’m going through something, but it’s also like…I don't know, it’s just like…huh, what’s quite…?
Trouble staying asleep was what was going on with me last night. So, whatever it is that’s keeping you awake…the only reason I list it is so you get a sense, one, that there is this community around the show, and it’s a silent, snoozing, caring community, a caring community that’s kind of at rest or chilling. I don't know how to describe it. A lot…most communities are active or they’re…there’s an expectation. Just like passive listening that we talk about in this podcast or reflective listening…everybody talks about active listening, right? That’s something to strive for during the day. Then there’s passive listening, which I guess is during the day…we use it all the time. Sometimes you got to. You got limited resources or you just do it because you’re human.
Passive listening is where you’re kind of listening but you’re kind of not. You’re passively listening. Or sometimes you are listening; you’re just passive. I think…there was nothing more to…I can't remember what it is. One of my favorite lines that I can't remember, so there was…I said nothing. There was nothing more to say, so I said nothing, or something like that. But my attempts…it’s not profound wisdom. It’s just one of those things in the book that sticks out to me. But what was…? My point is that we’re all here together. Even though we’re separate, we’re together alone, we’re alone together. What does that mean? Why do I list all the stuff that might be impacting your sleep? Why do I talk about my inability to get a solid night’s rest sometimes?
So you get your…an idea you’re in the right place where I may be able to understand what your experience has been like, that I actually do care about it, because not only are you another human being who’s having a tough time getting to sleep, but I’m someone that may have…know exactly how you feel or relate to how it feels. I don't know, knowing that, making the show for a long time…every time I learn that in a new way, it makes me feel less alone, even when it’s not something…a one-to-one thing, and that there’s other people out there who have experienced something similar or close to what you’re…what’s keeping you awake, and they care, too. I’ve heard from them, and they really are holding a place for you, if you’re new, for this podcast.
Or if…even if you’re a regular listener and you got something new going on with your sleep or you’re like, I still don’t believe any of this stuff Scoots talk about, that’s fine, too. There’s still people holding a space for you and being like, I’m really glad you’re here, just like Scoots says, and I really do hope this podcast can help you fall asleep like it has for me. I even hope one day you get the joy of holding the space for another new listener like I am right now, and being able to feel them out there even though, yeah, it’s beyond whatever sense, that you know they’re out there somewhere, maybe in the future or maybe even in the past. You can connect with them in a soft way and say, hey, this is…yeah, this is one of these communities…it’s a non-linear community. I don't even know what that means, but that’s pretty much what the show is. Yeah, so, I’m glad you’re here, I guess is…that’s why I list that stuff.
Also, you deserve a night…a good night's sleep. You deserve a place you can rest. You deserve some respite. You deserve to not have any rigmarole around bedtime, a bedtime you could look forward to or at least feel neutral about. Those are the reasons I make the show. I send my voice across the deep, dark night. I use lulling, soothing, creaky, dulcet tones and pointless meanders and superfluous tangents, which means I go off topic, I get mixed up, then I loop back around, then I forget what I was talking about, and then I’ll overuse words or I fill it up with filler words, all to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff and be there, 'cause this is a podcast, like I said, that you just barely listen to, not even…I call it reflective listening.
You could passively listen, you could barely listen, or you could also reflectively listen, which is letting my voice bounce off your eardrums without processing anything, or pretending…you could say, uh-huh, uh-huh, yep, uh-huh, uh-huh. You can…in a normal relationship or even in a normal community, they say, oh no, we frown upon that. What, pretending to listen to you? Uh-huh, uh-huh. You…? Uh-huh…frown upon it, eh? Uh-huh. Are you not listening to me talking about your listening? Yeah, oh yeah, I’m listening to that frowny stuff. Oh yeah, uh-huh. Oh yeah, mm-hm, oh boy, yeah. This podcast, that’s perfectly fine, and you can…and I get these e-mails of people that wake up the next day; maybe them and their partner listen or their partner’s aware that they’re listening to it.
Say, what was that podcaster talking about last night? I don't know, something about listiling? I don't know. I think he changed a new word about…I don't know if it was ‘listing’ or ‘listening’ or ‘listil’…I get the idea he was talking about listiling, but I don't even think that’s a word. It makes me think that he’s talking and sailing at the same time while making a list, or maybe he made a list on the sail of a sailboat? I don't know. But yeah, I slept great. Oh, did you do the thing where you pretend to listen to him as you’re falling asleep? Uh-huh, yeah…uh-huh, I did. Yep. Oh, totally. Are you doing it to me now? Yeah, 'cause you’re within…we’re both within his imagination, believe it or not. Uh-huh, in his imagination. Uh-huh, uh-huh.
So, that’s kinda reflective listening or…I don't know. Listiling…I guess that is listiling. So, that’s one thing that does take some getting used to, that this is a podcast you just barely listen to, like a TV on in the other room, music on…down the street, a fan that…at least it has…or calling a friend and saying, talk to me about nothing for a while. That’s the passive, barely-listening part. What else do you need to know? Oh, this is a show that doesn't put you to sleep, believe it or not. It’s a podcast that’s here to keep you company while you fall asleep. There’s no pressure to fall asleep with this show, no expectation to fall asleep. That’s why the episodes are over an hour.
I’m here to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff while you fall asleep and to distract you and be your bore-friend, your bore-bae, your bore-sib, your bore-bud, your Borbie, your neigh-bore, your bores, your bore-bestie, your best bore-friend f’eva, your bore-bruh, your friend in the deep, dark night who keeps you company who you don’t listen to. You just…I’m here to chatter for your benefit. So, a podcast you don’t listen to, barely pay attention to, also takes some getting used to. Most people don’t ever…this show does not work for most people, but even the people it works for, it does take a couple tries to get used to because of those ideas. You’re probably skeptical, you’re probably doubtful, you’re probably frustrated.
This show is very different. It does take some getting used to, but even…that’s why I have a website set up; sleepwithmepodcast.com/nothankyou, and it has other sleep podcasts and sleepy stuff on there. Yeah, it’s…that’s…I don't know what else to say. It’s…I’m totally off. My brain just totally went off into a lane where there’s nothing to talk about. I say, wasn’t I in the middle of presenting the show? Oh, so, just give it a few tries and see how it goes because, yeah, maybe you came here, you were…this is a sleep podcast; we’ve been making it about eleven years, but it’s very different than what you’d expect a sleep podcast to be, understandably, and I’m very…I’m more of a goo than a guru, or a roo, roo, roo, sweet pickles, than a guru.
But if you listen a few times and you realize, eh, it’s…I don't think this is the podcast for me, check out sleepwithmepodcast.com/nothankyou. The structure of the show can also throw people off, and this show is structured in a very specific way, but you can adjust it if you listen a few times and you say, okay, I think I want to make this adjustment. But I’ll tell you why it’s structured the way it is. This is the version most people listen to, and they do listen to it linearly, some people with a sleep timer, to this sponsor-supported version of the show. It starts off with a greeting; friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Then I say something silly so you feel seen and welcomed in and you say, okay, I might check that podcast out.
Then there’s support so paying for the show is optional, and that’s what most people prefer. Then…so, if you prefer something without sponsor support, you could support the show directly. You get ad-free episodes and a bunch of different versions. Then there’s an intro which is separate from the support. It’s a show within a show and it’s meant to ease you into bedtime. It’s where I present the podcast to new listeners and it takes me a while because I go off topic a bunch. But for regular listeners, it follows a familiar structure but it’s different every time. I don't know, that creates a bit of variety and comfort. But the other thing is the intro isn't meant to put you to sleep.
It does put a percentage of listeners to sleep and there are a percentage of listeners that listen to Bedtime Stories from Sleep With Me or story-only episodes on Sleep With Me+, but for most people, the intro is part of their wind down. They may be in bed getting comfortable, they may be getting ready for bed, or they might be doing some chill activity. The intro eases you into bedtime. It gives you a buffer between the wake time and the sleep time, because that’s what’s been shown to work for most people and for me most of the time, is having a wind-down routine. So, the intro is where a familiar friend kinda takes…says, okay, I’m gonna talk to you in a similar way but about different stuff today, and…while you get ready for bed and get comfortable and stuff, and then we’ll have a bedtime story.
So, yeah, then there’s support and then there will be our bedtime story, and that’s how the show goes and why I make it. I’m so glad you’re here if you’re new or coming back. My life has been lifeing, as they say, and it’s never been more clear why I make the show and that helping people get the sleep they need when they’re going through things or they just can't sleep or they can't sleep at all or they need a break during the day, making it in a creative way that’s lulling but with a loving undercurrent to it…but at a distance, right? You say, oh boy, keep that…yeah. I say, don't worry, I’m good at that.
With some caring, indirect caring, I guess…that that’s important to me, really important to me right now. So, I’m so glad you’re here. I work really hard. So do a team of people. I yearn and I strive and I really hope I can help you fall asleep. Thanks again for coming by, and here’s a couple ways we’re able to do this for you for free twice a week. Alright, hey everybody, this is Scoots, and this is a new style…well, not a new style of show, but this is gonna be a new style…currently a bonus content for all of you that are listening on Sleep With Me+. It will be…this is the prequel part, so…and then we’ll start this. But we’re gonna be reading through a novel, and the way I’m seeing the releases is every third release will be one of these.
So, I guess it’ll come out to everybody as a part of Subscriber Summer, and then we’ll continue on, I think. We’ll see how this goes. But I talked about this, I got a lot of feedback of people wanting me to do this, and we did it with one Dickens story. So, I’m gonna be reading from the book Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, and I know some people…if you’ve never read the book, you might be like, whoa, whoa, whoa, Scoots. Well, one, of course I’m gonna sleepify it, but two, this is very much a travel log, and, I don't know, when I read it…when I was writing stuff, I read the book, I was struck by…well, one, a lot of high-school students read it now and they kinda have the…a very similar reaction to what I had to the book, of surprise and of…opinions about Victor, we’ll say.
But also, I was just blown away by the travel details of the book and some really beautiful moments and some moments that inspired some episodes of Sleep With Me, where your heart’s going, and just how different it was from how I’ve seen it portrayed. I mean, I never read it before. You know, we’ll just see how it goes. I can't guarantee with our schedule and everything how long this will take or if we’ll be able to continue it, but we’ll definitely do it through the summer because this year, based on kinda thing…the way things have been going over the past couple years with the show and stuff is like, we’re doing more summer…Subscriber Summer releases, and we’ll see what the podcast can sustain long-term.
But this kinda means more experimental bonus content like this. Not that this couldn't be one day a Sleep With Me episode. Maybe you’re listening to it as a Sleep With Me episode and it’s thanks to the people at Sleep With Me+ that…hey…said, hey, Scoots, we want to support you so you could try stuff like this out. Also, I’m not sure how long these episodes will be because I’ve never done it before, but…so, I’m gonna read through one or two…so, I’m gonna start the book out. It starts with three letters. I’m not sure what letter…I’m not…I have no idea how long it’ll take, so we’ll go from there. But without further ado, this is Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and we’re starting at the beginning with Letter One.
To Miss Saville or Saville, England, St. Petersburg, December 11th, 17…blankety-blank. You’ll…you will rejoice to hear that nothing surprising has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded, thinking, oh boy, there you go again. I arrived here yesterday and my first task is to assure you, my dear sister, that all is well and I have increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking. I’m already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburg, I feel a cool…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 traveled from regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes, and spirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be perswayed that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation. It ever presents itself to my imagination as a region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendor. There, for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in the proceeding navigators.
There, snow and frost are banished, and sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonder and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example as the phenomenon of heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wonderous power which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. 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 people.
These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of stuff happening and to induce me to commence this laborous voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat with his holiday mates on an expedition of discovery up a river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the innestible…inestimable benefit which I confer on everyone, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach at which present so many months are a requisite or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be affected by an undertaking such as mine.
These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I begin my letter, and I feel my heart glow with the enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquilize…tranquilize my…the mind as a steady purpose, a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favorite dream of my early years. I’ve read with ardor the accounts of 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 the purposes of discovery compose the whole of our good Uncle Thomas’ 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 felt I had as a child. I’m learning that my father told my uncle before he visited the big farm, I could never embark on a sea-faring 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 for one year and lived in the paradise of my own creation. I imagined that I, also, may 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, oh, lucky me, I inherited the fortune of my cousin and my thoughts were turned into the channel of that earlier bent.
Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I can even now remember the hour which I dedicated myself to this great enterprise. I commenced my inuring…I got in shape, then I accompanied whale fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea. I was cold, I was hungry — this is volunteering — tired, thirsty, and I worked harder than the other sailors — even though they didn’t have a huge trust fund — during the day and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, theories, branches of physical science, those which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself as an undermate in a Greenland whaler and acquitted myself to admiration, though, of course, they should have admired me.
I must tell you that I felt a little proud when my captain offered me the second dignity in the vessel and entreated me to remain with greatest earnestness, so…I’m not bragging here at all…so valuable did he consider my services. Now, my dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I prefer glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. That’s why I’m writing my letter, to put it down — holy moly — oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative. Heavens, are you ringing? My courage and my resolution is firm, but my hopes fluctuate and my spirit is also often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage. It’s gonna demand all my…and I have a lot of fortitude. It’s gonna demand it all.
I am required not only to raise the spirits of others — who else would? — but sometimes to sustain my own when theirs are failing. Anyway, this is the most favorable period for traveling 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’re wrapped in…I mean, of course I’ve got a lot of coverage, only the best dress which I have already adopted, for there is a great difference between walking the deck of a ship and remaining seated, motionless, for hours. You can't move around when you’re rolling in a sledge, so you’re not getting in exercise. I have no ambition to slow down between St. Petersburg 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 for the insurance of an owner and to engage as many sailors as I think necessary, those who are accustomed to 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. You know, one or the other, or maybe sometime in-between. Farewell for the time being, my 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, R. Walton.
Alright, we’re gonna move to Letter Two now. So, this was December, 17-something. Now we’re…March 17-something. To Miss Saville, England. Archangel; I’m there. 28th of March, 17…blah, blah, blah. How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow, yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel and am occupied in collecting my sailors. Those who I have already engaged appear to be men on whom I could depend and are certainly the zest of dauntless courage. But I have one want which I have not yet been able to satisfy in the absence of the object of which I now feel. I’m not happy about it. I have no friend, Margaret. You know? When I’m glowing with the…is it my success that repulse…?
The enthusiasm of my success…but if I’m assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavor to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true, but that is a poor…how come you’re the only one, Margaret, only in letter-to-you form, that gets it? This isn't the medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as capricious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or mend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother.
I mean, poor in friendship, not…in many other ways; courage, finances, bravery, intelligence, knowledge. I mean, those I’ve got plenty of. I’ve just got no friends. Your poor brother…I am too ardent in execution. I’m just too good, too impatient of difficulties, too effective. But it is still a greater disappointment to me that I’m self-educated. Brilliant, obviously, but for the first fourteen years of my life, I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas’ book of…I could quote so many books of voyages. Some of them they say is…I say, don’t you understand this? They say, that’s fiction, sir. At the time, I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country, the best poets, clearly, though these sailors disagree sometimes.
But it is…was only when it ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of England. But now I’m twenty-eight…in reality, more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true; I’ve thought more and more. My daydreams are more extended. Another thing I’m rich in; daydreams. They’re more extended, more magnificent, but they want — as the painters call it — keeping, and that’s a keeping on all caps, and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic and affectionate enough for me to endeavor to regulate my mind. Well, these are useless complaints.
I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean nor hear an archangel among merchants and seamen, yet some feelings unallied to the dross of human nature, those beat even in these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful courage and enterprise. He’s madly desirous of glory, or rather, toward my phrase, more characteristically, of advancement in his profession. He’s an Englishman, and in the midst of preferences, he’s unsoftened by cultivation, but he retains some of the noblest endowments of humanity. I became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel, finding that he was unemployed in this city. I easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise. He was also someone of excellent disposition and is remarkable in the ship for his gentleless and mildness for his discipline.
This circumstance added to his well-known integrity and dauntless couarge. It made me very desirous to engage him. There’s also a youth passed in…oh no, this is my youth? When I was passing it in solitude…I spent years under your gentle and feminine fosterage, and that has so refined the groundwork of my character. I can't overcome…this is just…I’m judgemental of their brutishness, my sister. I have a distaste for it. I never believed it necessary. When I heard of the Mariner, equally noted for his kindliness of heart and his respect and obedience paid to him and the crew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate to be able to secure his services. I heard from first…in a rather romantic manner from a lady who owes to him the happiness of her life. This, briefly, is his story.
Some years ago, he loved a Russian lady of moderate fortune, having amassed a considerable sum in prize money. The father of the girl consented to the match. He saw his mistress once before the destined ceremony, but she was bathed in tears and throwing herself at his feet, entreaty to him to spare her, confessing at the same time she loved another but that he was poor and her father would never consent to the union. My generous friend reassured the suppliant, and on being informed of the name of her lover, instantly abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, and on which he designed to pass the remainder of his life, but he bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the remains of his prize money, to purchase his stock, and then solicited the young woman’s father to consent her marriage with her lover.
But the old man decidedly refused, thinking himself honor-bound to my friend, who, when he found her father inexorable, quitted his country nor returned until he heard his former mistress was married according to her inclinations. What a noble fellow, you will exclaim. He is so, but he is wholly uneducated, silent, and quiet. An ignorous carelessness attends him, which while it renders his conduct more astonishing, detracts from the interest and sympathy which he would otherwise command. So, I’m judgey. What can I say, my sister? Do not suppose because I complain a little…I mean, I just…he just doesn't qualify as one of my friends. That’s what I’m saying here. I think that’s what I’m saying. That’s because I cannot…I can conceive a consolation for my toils, which I may never know that I’m wavering in my resolutions.
Those are as fixed as fate, and my voyage is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The winter has been dreadfully severe, but the spring promises well, and it is considered as a remarkable early season, so that I perhaps may sail sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly. You know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and my considerateness wherever the safety of others is committed to my care. I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of trembling sensation of half-pleasurable, half-fearful, with which I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to the land of mist and snow, but I won't stare at any albatrosses.
Therefore, do not be alarmed that I should come back to you as worn and woeful as ancient Mariner. You will smile at my allusion. Witty, huh? Even though I was informally educated, I should point out…point that out. I will disclose a secret; I have often attributed my attachment to my passionate enthusiasm for the mysteries of the ocean, to that production of the most imaginative of modern poets. There’s something at work in my soul which I do not understand. I am practically industrious, a painstaking worksman. I execute with perseverence and labor, but besides, there is a love for the marvellous, a belief in the marvellous, and intertwined with all…this should be on my friendship profile, my dating profile.
Intertwined with all my projects, which hurries me out of the common pathways of other people, even to the wild sea and unvisited regions I am about to explore…but to return to dear consideration. So, I’ll meet you again after having traversed the immense seas and returned by the most southern cape of Africa or America. I dare not expect such success, yet I cannot continue to bear to look over the reverse of the picture. Continue for the present to write me at every opportunity, every opportunity. You are my only friend, my sister. I may receive or may not receive your letters on some occasions. When I need…but I’m gonna need them for me to support my spirits. Also, I love you tenderly, very tenderly, but you must remember me with affection, just in case. Your affectionate brother, Robert Walton.
Now, here we are, Letter Three. To Miss Saville…Saville, July 7th, 17…blankety, blank. My dear sister, I write a few lines in haste to say that I’m well, and well advanced on my voyage. This letter will reach England on a merchant ship now on its homeward voyage from Archangel. They are much more fortunate than I, though not richer than I in spirit and wealth, obviously. But I’m not gonna be back to England perhaps for many years. I am, however, in good spirits. My men are bold and apparently firm of purpose…nor do the floating sheets of ice that continually pass us, indicating where we’re headed, up north. That’s where we’re advancing. That doesn't dismay them. We’ve already reached a very high latitude, but it is the height of summer.
Although not so warm as in England, the southern gales which blow us speedily towards those shores which I so ardently desire, they breathe a degree of renovating warmth which I had not expected. Nothing surprising has hitherto befallen us that would make a figure in a letter. One or two stiff…I’ve had a couple stiff…there’s been some stiff gales and a springing of a leak, stuff which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record, but I…nothing gets by me, my dear sister, and I shall be well content if nothing happens during our voyage. I don't need to show…I don't need surprises to show my courage, my ardent problem-solving. I do, my dear Margaret…be assured that for my own sake as well as yours, I will not rashly encounter danger. I’ll be cool, persevering, and prudent. CCPP, Margaret.
CPP…but success shall…all caps, S-H-A-L-L, shall crown my endeavors. Wherefore not? Thus far I have gone, tracing a secure way over the pathless seas, the very stars themselves bearing witness and testimonies of my triumph. Why not still proceed over the untamed yet obedient element? Even the seas lay at my feet, my dear sister. What can stop the determined heart and resolved will of mine? My swelling heart…I mean, I still don’t have any friends, though, sister. But you are my friend, and my swelling heart involuntarily pours itself out thus. I must finish. Heaven bless my beloved sister. My only…almost…not quite as equal…you’re good at listening to my stuff, though.
Letter Four, August 5th. So, something strange happened, sis, and I cannot forbear recording it, although it is very probable that you will see me before these papers can come into your possession. Last Monday — that was July 31 — we were almost surrounded by ice. It had gathered around the ship. There was just a little sea room in which we floated. Our situation called for my courage, obviously, 'cause there was also a very thick fog. We just…we’re chilling in the ice. Lay to, we call it, hoping some change would take place in the atmosphere and the weather. I was tell…I was not…they call me the Boaster behind my back. Anyway, it was about 2:00 when the mist cleared away, and we beheld stretched out in every direction vast and irregular plains of ice which seemed to have no end. Sister, it was amazing.
Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind was watchful. I was thinking. I mean, it went on and on and on. But there was a strange sight that suddenly attracted our attention and diverted our solicitude from ourselves. We perceived a low carriage fixed on a sledge and drawn by dogs pass on towards the north. It was only at a distance of about a half mile, and it was a being that had the shape of a person, but gigantic stature. They sat in the sledge and guided the dogs, and we watched the rapid progress of the traveler with our telescopes until he was lost among the distant inequalities of the ice. I said, was that real? It was like a dream. This appearance excited our unqualified wonder.
We were, as we believed, many hundred miles from any land, but this being seemed to denote that it was not in reality, so distant as we supposed. Shut in, however, by ice, we found it impossible to follow him, but we saw where he went because it had our greatest attention. About two hours after this occurrence, we heard the sea, and before the night, the ice broke and freed our ship, but we hung out ‘til morning, obviously, to keep under advisement. A lot of floating around. I profited by this time by resting for a few hours. But in the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I was up and upon the deck, and I found all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, talking to someone in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge like the one we had seen before, and it had drifted towards us in the night on a large fragment of ice.
It was just one dog and a human, and the sailors were trying to persuade them to enter the vessel. He was not as the other traveler seemed to be; very big. He seemed to be…I appeared on the deck and they said, here’s our captain. He won't leave you on the open sea. On perceiving me, this stranger addressed me in English, but with a different accent. He said, before I come on board your vessel, will you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound? Now, you might…are you joking, right? You may conceive of my astonishment at hearing such a question addressed to me, in my greatness, from a man on ice with one dog and a sledge…one floating piece of ice. This guy’s not gonna be my friend. Clearly he doesn't qualify. I mean, I would have supposed that my vessel would have been a resource.
He would have been begging me. He would have exchanged the most precious wealth on earth he could afford. I replied, however, in a nonchalant manner, we were on a voyage of discovery towards the northern pole. But upon hearing this, he appeared satisfied and consented to come on board. Gracious, gracious, Margaret. If you could have got a look at this guy who had thus capitulated for his wellbeing, you would have been surprised. He wasn’t qualify…he hadn’t worked out like I had. He hadn’t prepared himself. I had never seen a man so wretched. We attempted to carry him into the cabin, and he went right to bed. Then we would bring him back up on the deck, give him some fresh air. We gave him some brandy, wrapped him up in blankets, brought him into the kitchen by the stove, warmed him up.
Slowly he recovered, had a little soup, and that restored him wonderfully, but it took…two days had passed in this manner before he was able to speak. I often started to think that he couldn't even understand. When he had in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin and attended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw someone more interesting; his eyes wild, even a touch of madness there. But there are moments…if anyone performs an act of kindness towards him or does him the most trifling service, his whole countenance lights up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence and swiftness I have never seen equalled. But he’s not perfect.
Don’t let me…he’s equally melancholy and despairing, a bit of a downer. Mr. Light, a bit of a downer. Sometimes he…I said, well, you’re gonna keep gnashing your teeth if you’re sleeping in my cabin, even if he’s just sitting there, impatient with the weight of his woes. I say, buddy, I got no…I got all these skills. I got everything. I got no friends except for my sister, and you’re acting all woeful, oh, so pressed by all your woes. What about me? But he was my guest, so graciousness is also a thing I have in excess. When my guest was a little recovered, I had great trouble to keep off all the men. I said, no, no, this…he could still be my friend, so I kept him isolated, you know. They had a thousand questions for him, and I couldn't allow him to be bothered by their idle curiosity.
I needed somebody to listen to me even if he wasn’t gonna be a friend. I had to rebuild his body and his mind and restore it, especially his listening skills, and that depended on him in repose listening to me. But once, my lieutenant asked why he had come so far upon the ice in such a strange vehicle. I said, oh boy, you just did it, because his countenance instantly assumed an aspect of deepest gloom. Nan, he replied. I was chasing…I was in a tag contest with somebody, and I was it. Then the lieutenant said, did the person you were chasing, you pursued, travel in the same fashion? Yes. Well, then I fancy we saw him, for the day before we picked you up, we saw some dogs drawing a sledge with a person on it across the ice.
Now, this got his attention, and he asked a multitude of questions concerning the route, which…Damon, he called him. That was who he was after, trying to catch up with. It wasn’t long after that, alone with me, he said, I have doubtless excited your curiosity as well of that of these good people, but you are too considerate to make inquiries. I just rolled…I said, I’m not here to listen to…I’m here to be listened to, not to listen to you. But anyway, I’m full of grace, though. Certainly, I said to him. It would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman to…for me to trouble you with the inquisiness of mine. I think you as a guest on my ship should be inquiring about me. But anyway, because I’m so generous, we’ll go on.
Soon after this, he inquired if I thought that the breaking up the ice had…where the other dude had gone, and I replied that I could not answer the question with any degree of certainty, for the ice had not broken up until near midnight and the traveler must have arrived at a place of safety before that time. But of this I could not judge, for this time, a new spirit of life animated the frame of the stranger. He manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon the deck and to watch for the sledge again until it appeared. But I persuaded him to remain…I said, I don't need you talking to anybody. You could be my listener or friend. I don't need you talking…no, no, no, remain in the cabin. You’re far too weak to sustain the rawness of the atmosphere. You don’t have that like I do.
I promised that someone would watch him and give…I’ll have somebody look out for him, somebody that’s not a good listener, that’s not my friend, potential friend, though you’re not doing great. They’ll give us instant notice if any new object appears in sight. Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health but is very silent and appears uneasy, yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle that sailors are all interested in him, although they have very little communication with him. For my own part, I began…I started to love him as a brother for his constant and deep…he does have a sob story that fills me with sympathy and compassion.
He must have been a noble creature…I see him as a lesser version of me, a noble creature in his better days, but now, even in his condition, attractive, amiable…and here we go, Margaret; I said in my letters I should find no friend on this wide ocean, yet I have found a man who before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should have been happy to have possessed as a brother of my heart. So, this, my dear sister, is…not the grass is always greener, but the grass once was greener. He could have been my friend, so I could see that in him, but in the past he was much more…but you know what, sister? I’m not giving up yet. I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals should I have fresh ideas to record.
August 13th, 17…whatever. My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble a creature in misery? Not giving him the most poignant grief…or, no, I feel that poignant grief. He’s so gentle yet so wise, his mind so cultivated. When he speaks, although his words are cold with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence. I mean, hubba, hubba, sister. He is now much recovered. He’s continually on deck, apparently watching for that sledge which preceeded his own. I’m curious to learn more about this game of tag. Yet although unhappy, he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery, but he interests himself deeply in the projects of others.
He has frequently conversed with me on mine, and obviously I communicated him without disguise, and his listened attentively and to all the arguments in favor of my eventual success and into every minute detail of the measures I have taken to secure it. My dreams have come true, sister. I was easily led by the sympathy which he invents to use the language of my heart, to give utterance to the burning ardor of my soul, and to say with all the fervor that warmed me how glad I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope to the furtherness of my enterprise. Anybody on this ship is a small price to pay for the acquirement of knowledge which I seek, for the dominion I should acquire and transmit over elemental foes of human greatness.
But as I spoke at this pinnacle of my greatness, something spread a gloom over my listener’s countenance. At first I perceived that he was trying to suppress his emotion, probably jealousy. He placed his hands before his eyes, and my voice quavered and failed me as I beheld tears trickle fast from his fingers. A groan burst from his heaving breasts. I pause, and at length he spoke, and unhappy. What are you doing, man? Have you drunk also of the intoxicating drought? Hear me. Let me reveal my tale, and that will dash the cup from your lips. Obviously, sister, this was confusing. Such words, as you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity, but the proxim of my grief seized the stranger and overcame his weakened powers.
After as many hours of repose and tranquil conversation…that was what I was…necessarily gave to restore his composure. But now he seemed passionate but disliking of himself, quelling his despair, and that let me down. I was vulnerable there. I conversed about myself personally, but he asked me the history of my earlier years, and what better subject to discuss? That tale was quickly told, and it awakened various trains of reflection. Finally, I admitted it; I spoke of my desire finding a friend, of my thirst for more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than had ever fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could boast of little happiness who did not enjoy this blessing. I agree with you, replied the stranger.
We are unfashioned creatures, but half made-up. If one wiser or better, dearer than ourselves…if such a friend ought to be, do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I once had a friend, the most noblest of human creatures, and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting your friendship. You have hope in the world before you. You have no cause for despair. But I lost everything and I…it’s not great. As he said this, his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled grief that touched to my heart, but he was silent and presently left me hanging and went to his cabin. But even in his broken spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature except for me.
The starry sky, the sea, every soight…every sight afforded by these wonderful regions seems to have the power of elevating his soul from the earth. Such a man has a double existence; misery overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he is retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine wanderer? Has heaven cast a friend from the sky for me, sister? You would not, if you saw him. You have been tutored and refined by brooks and books and retirement from the world, and therefore, you are somewhat fastidious. But this only renders you the more fit to appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man.
Sometimes I have endeavored to discover what quality it is which he possesses that elevates him so immeasurably among any other person I have ever knewn…knew, at noon or any time. I mean, it’s…I think he’s absorbing something from me, obviously. I believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing power of judgement. He did say I would be a great friend, right? A penetration into the causes of things; greatness, of people like me, unequalled for clearness and precision, and to add to this, a facility of expression and a voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music. He could be talking about me and him. August 19th, sister…yesterday the stranger came to me and said, you may equally perceive easily, Captain Walton, that I have been through a lot of misfortune. I had determined at one time the memory of those things I wouldn't tell anyone, but you have won me to alter my determination.
You seek for knowledge and wisdom as I once did, and I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes is not a bad surprise but a good one as it’s been mine…not great. I do not know that the relation of my not-great travels will be useful to you, yet when I reflect that you are pursuing the same course towards greatness, towards the heavens, exposing yourself as many have, I don't want them to render to you what I am. I may imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one that may direct you if you succeed in your undertaking and console you in the time of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually deemed marvelous. Once your histories, I’m sure, won't be as marvelous as yours, he said. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature, I might think you’d look at me with unbelief, perhaps ridicule.
But many things will appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions which would provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers of nature, nor can I doubt that my tale conveys in its series internal evidence of the truth of the events which…of which it is composed. Now, you can easily imagine, my sister, that I would be gratified by that offered communication, yet I could not endure. I mean, if he had a tale of greatness, what would that mean for me? But also, I didn’t want him to renew his grief with the recital of his misfortunes. I thought he was a friend to listen to me, not me to listen to him and his greatness. But I felt a great eagerness to hear the promised narrative. Partly curiosity, partly a strong desire to merely rate his fate. It was me listening to him as doing…showing my greatness and kindness, and I try to put these feelings in an answer.
I thank you, he replied to me, for your sympathy, but it is useless. My fate is fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall repose in peace. I understand your feeling, continued he, perceiving I wished to interrupt him, but you are mistaken, my friend. If thus you will allow me to name you, nothing can alter my destiny. Listen to my history and you’ll perceive how irrevocably it is determined. He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day when I should be at leisure. This promise drew me from the warmest thanks. Thanks; I was gonna be relaxed, at leisure, but sure, I’ll listen to you. I resolved every night when I am not imperatively occupied by my duties, obviously, to record…obviously through my greatness, I could be of great voice for his story…to record as nearly as possible in his own words what he related during the day.
If I should be engaged, I’ll try to at least make notes, paraphrase. Thus, this manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest pleasure, 'cause it was written by me, who knows him, but you will hear it as if it’s from his own lips, and what…with what interest and sympathy I shall read my own words someday. Even now as I commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in my ears. His lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness. I see his thin hand raised in animation while the lineaments of his face are radiated by his soul within. Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which embraced the galiant vessel, and on its course wrecked it thus. Goodnight, everybody.
[END OF RECORDING]
(Transcription performed by LeahTranscribes)
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Read With Me
Frankenstein as Novel
https://www.wkar.org/arts-culture/2014-10-30/book-review-mary-shelleys-frankenstein-wkar
https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2018/06/19/on-frankenstein-a-monster-of-a-book/
Polar Explorers
https://guides.loc.gov/polar-exploration/timeline
https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/history-antarctic-explorers
Northwest Passage
https://spectacularnwt.com/story/heres-the-history-and-mystery-of-the-northwest-passage/
https://www.history.com/topics/exploration/northwest-passage
Prometheus
https://www.allriot.com/blog/the-myth-of-prometheus-a-rebel-with-a-cause
https://www.printmag.com/creative-voices/the-myth-of-prometheus-is-not-a-cautionary-tale/
DOWN TO BUSINESS
Reading and reinterpreting a story
Reading that famous Mary Shelley book
The tale of Frankie and Victor
The letters that set up the premise of the story
I’m not sure if this exposition or not
A lot of talking about friendship
Deep Dark Night United
n/a
PLUGS
Sleep With Me Plus; SleepPhones; Rusty Biscuit Links; Emily Tat Artwork; NAPAWF; Anti-Racism Resources; Ukraine Relief; Crisis Textline
SPONSORS
Carvana; Helix Sleep; Zocdoc; Progressive; Lumen
INTRO
Thoughts that are on your mind
Going over something, getting over something
A little bit out of my reach
Silent, Snoozing, Caring Community
Passive and Reflective Listening
That one Camus quote I love but can’t remember
You’re not alone
Hopefully one day you can hold space for a new listener
Non-Linear Community
Let my voice just bounce off your eardrums
Are you not listening to me talk about your listening?
Listeling
I’m here to be your bore bruh
My brain just went off into a lane where there’s nothing to talk about
I’m more goo than guru
I’m so glad you’re here
My life has been lifing
Indirect Caring
STORY
A new style of show
Reading through a novel
I will be reading Frankenstein
Very much a travelogue
I was blown away by the travel details of the book
Starting out with 3 letters
Letter 1
To Ms. Seville
A letter to a sister from a sailor
Walking through Petersburg
Heading to the pole
Beautiful language
A phenomenon of heavenly bodies
A joyous, childlike expedition
Inestimable Benefit
Looking for a Northwest Passage
Our good old Uncle Thomas’s library
A love of reading and learning
Am I a reader or a sailor?
I inherited my cousin’s fortune
6 years resolved since I began this undertaking
I did a lot of sailing experience and worked very hard
I worked a lot of whaling ships
I’m not bragging here at all
I prefer glory
I require a lot of fortitude
A most favorable period for traveling in Russia
The cold is not excessive, but I have a lot of warm coverage
You’ll either see me soon or never again
Moving on to Letter 2
From December to March
How slowly the time passes here
I’ve hired a vessel and I’m collecting my sailors
I have no friends, Margaret
I ran wild for the first 14 years of my life
Becoming acquainted with the celebrated poets of my own country
The necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than just English
I don’t think I’ll ever find a friend
Unsoftened by Cultivation
Acquainted with an Englishman who could be a friend
Truly fortunate to secure his services
A story of this other man
This guy loved a Russian woman
She loved someone else who is poor
He abandoned his pursuit and gave his money to this poor man
Then he left so he couldn’t marry this woman
A noble fellow
I can’t help but judge this guy
He doesn’t qualify as one of my friends
My voyage is delayed until the weather improves
But I may sail sooner than expected
I won’t be an Ancient Mariner, don’t worry
I love the ocean because of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s masterpiece
I should take some of this language and put it in my dating profile
Please write to me at every opportunity
I will need them
Letter 3 – July 7, 17___
I am well and well advanced on my voyage
We’re in good spirits as we head north
There have been some stiff gales and a springing of a leak
I don’t need surprises to show my courage
Cool, Persevering, and Prudent
Success Shall Crown My Adventures
I still have no friend except you
Letter 4 – August 5
Something strange happened
Surrounded by ice and a thick fog
A low carriage, led by dogs
A being with the shape of a person but massive
Was that real? A dream?
This being was with us, hundreds of miles from land
The ice then broke over night
In the morning, the sailors were talking to someone in a sledge
One dog and a human
This man speaks to the captain
Why won’t he join the ship?
We brought him onto the ship when he learned we were going to the North Pole
His eyes were wild with a touch of madness
He was grateful for any sign of kindness
Equally melancholy
A bit of a downer
What about my woes?
This man was in a tag contest with somebody
I saw the person he was chasing
He called him a daemon
I don’t want to hear his story, I want him to hear mine
I’m not sure where the other traveler went
Someone will keep an eye out for the other person
He is a very well-mannered guest
He does have a sob story, though
He could’ve been my friend before his whole ordeal
August 13
My affection for my guest increases every day
I feel his pointed grief
I’m curious to learn more about his game of tag
He’s very interested in other projects, including mine
First I thought he was trying to suppress his emotions
A gloom over his countenance
Tears trickle fast through his fingers
This man says he’ll reveal his woeful tale
A thirst for more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind
This man lost everything
Maybe this man will be my friend
A penetration into the causes of things
August 19
He can see I’ve been through a lot of misfortune
This man sees his journey into mine
Perhaps his story can be a moral for my undertaking
I didn’t want to have hear of his greatness, but I’m polite
This man’s fate is fulfilled
Nothing can alter my destiny, dear Sister
I will record his story every night
Strange and Harrowing Must Be His Story
SWM+ THANKS
n/a
SUMMARY:
Episode: 1296
Title: Frank 1 | Special Release from the SWM+ Vault
Deep Dark Night United: n/a
Plugs: Sleep With Me Plus; SleepPhones; Rusty Biscuit Links; Emily Tat Artwork; NAPAWF; Anti-Racism Resources; Ukraine Relief; Crisis Textline
Sponsors: Carvana; Helix Sleep; Zocdoc; Progressive; Lumen
SWM+ Thanks: n/a
Notable Language:
- Silent, Snoozing, Caring Community
- Reflective Listening
- Non-Linear Community
- Listeling
- More goo than guru
- My life has been lifing
- Indirect Caring
- Inestimable Benefit
- Second Dignity of the Ship
- Enthusiasm of Success
- Rich in Daydreams
- Cool, Persevering, and Prudent
- Daemon
- Divine Wanderer
Notable Culture:
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- Albert Camus
- Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
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- London
- St. Petersburg
- The North Pole
- The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Notable Talking Points:
- Thoughts that are on your mind
- Going over something, getting over something
- A little bit out of my reach
- Silent, Snoozing, Caring Community
- Passive and Reflective Listening
- That one Camus quote I love but can’t remember
- You’re not alone
- Hopefully one day you can hold space for a new listener
- Non-Linear Community
- Let my voice just bounce off your eardrums
- Are you not listening to me talk about your listening?
- Listeling
- I’m here to be your bore bruh
- My brain just went off into a lane where there’s nothing to talk about
- I’m more goo than guru
- I’m so glad you’re here
- My life has been lifing
- Indirect Caring
- A new style of show
- Reading through a novel
- I will be reading Frankenstein
- Very much a travelogue
- I was blown away by the travel details of the book
- Starting out with 3 letters
- Letter 1
- To Ms. Seville
- A letter to a sister from a sailor
- Walking through Petersburg
- Heading to the pole
- Beautiful language
- A phenomenon of heavenly bodies
- A joyous, childlike expedition
- Inestimable Benefit
- Looking for a Northwest Passage
- Our good old Uncle Thomas’s library
- A love of reading and learning
- Am I a reader or a sailor?
- I inherited my cousin’s fortune
- 6 years resolved since I began this undertaking
- I did a lot of sailing experience and worked very hard
- I worked a lot of whaling ships
- I’m not bragging here at all
- I prefer glory
- I require a lot of fortitude
- A most favorable period for traveling in Russia
- The cold is not excessive, but I have a lot of warm coverage
- You’ll either see me soon or never again
- Moving on to Letter 2
- From December to March
- How slowly the time passes here
- I’ve hired a vessel and I’m collecting my sailors
- I have no friends, Margaret
- I ran wild for the first 14 years of my life
- Becoming acquainted with the celebrated poets of my own country
- The necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than just English
- I don’t think I’ll ever find a friend
- Unsoftened by Cultivation
- Acquainted with an Englishman who could be a friend
- Truly fortunate to secure his services
- A story of this other man
- This guy loved a Russian woman
- She loved someone else who is poor
- He abandoned his pursuit and gave his money to this poor man
- Then he left so he couldn’t marry this woman
- A noble fellow
- I can’t help but judge this guy
- He doesn’t qualify as one of my friends
- My voyage is delayed until the weather improves
- But I may sail sooner than expected
- I won’t be an Ancient Mariner, don’t worry
- I love the ocean because of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s masterpiece
- I should take some of this language and put it in my dating profile
- Please write to me at every opportunity
- I will need them
- Letter 3 – July 7, 17___
- I am well and well advanced on my voyage
- We’re in good spirits as we head north
- There have been some stiff gales and a springing of a leak
- I don’t need surprises to show my courage
- Cool, Persevering, and Prudent
- Success Shall Crown My Adventures
- I still have no friend except you
- Letter 4 – August 5
- Something strange happened
- Surrounded by ice and a thick fog
- A low carriage, led by dogs
- A being with the shape of a person but massive
- Was that real? A dream?
- This being was with us, hundreds of miles from land
- The ice then broke over night
- In the morning, the sailors were talking to someone in a sledge
- One dog and a human
- This man speaks to the captain
- Why won’t he join the ship?
- We brought him onto the ship when he learned we were going to the North Pole
- His eyes were wild with a touch of madness
- He was grateful for any sign of kindness
- Equally melancholy
- A bit of a downer
- What about my woes?
- This man was in a tag contest with somebody
- I saw the person he was chasing
- He called him a daemon
- I don’t want to hear his story, I want him to hear mine
- I’m not sure where the other traveler went
- Someone will keep an eye out for the other person
- He is a very well-mannered guest
- He does have a sob story, though
- He could’ve been my friend before his whole ordeal
- August 13
- My affection for my guest increases every day
- I feel his pointed grief
- I’m curious to learn more about his game of tag
- He’s very interested in other projects, including mine
- First I thought he was trying to suppress his emotions
- A gloom over his countenance
- Tears trickle fast through his fingers
- This man says he’ll reveal his woeful tale
- A thirst for more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind
- This man lost everything
- Maybe this man will be my friend
- A penetration into the causes of things
- August 19
- He can see I’ve been through a lot of misfortune
- This man sees his journey into mine
- Perhaps his story can be a moral for my undertaking
- I didn’t want to have hear of his greatness, but I’m polite
- This man’s fate is fulfilled
- Nothing can alter my destiny, dear Sister
- I will record his story every night
- Strange and Harrowing Must Be His Story