Origin of the Vampyre

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mary Shelley

Albion House

Marlow

March 1817

Darling Mary (my inquisitive Eve),

I was intrigued to hear you are expanding your original ghost story into a full-length novel. Your idea for the sea captain happening upon Frankenstein and then his wretch in the desolation of the northern ice lands adds an exciting romantic element. Peeling back the many layers of your novel, your stories within stories, consumes my imagination in the most joyful manner. I wonder that you settled upon the name “Walton” for your captain. Did it come to you in one of your dreams? It seems familiar to one who has roused my sleep of late.

Alas my original ghost story is destined not to be printed, unworthy of a longer structure. After leaving Geneva and your circle for my own tour of Switzerland and Italy I vowed to leave it incomplete. But I will admit the horror of the Vampyre demanded to be written, that I might make sense of certain occurrences during that dreadful summer at Villa Diodati. It threatened to suck the very life from me if I did not put quill to parchment. I eventually dashed off the manuscript within three days as a present of gratitude to a bon vivant who’d afforded me great hospitality. I trust it has since been relegated to a dusty box in her villa nestled in the Alps of Switzerland and shall never see the light of day.

I have my reasons for this hope—part of an oath I made to Lord Byron after that imprudent incident where I made a scene at La Scala Opera House in Milano and was removed from the premises.

Both story and relationship have long since disintegrated from my thoughts.

Best,

John