The Frankenstein Papers

LETTER 12

April 1,1783

Bavaria—the vicinity of Big Karl's village

Dear Father—

I trust that you received my last letter, in which I gave, at some length, the particulars of our miraculous balloon adventure; at any rate, I am not going to repeat the details of that enterprise here, for there is fresh news of some importance to be told.

I have success to report—and failure too. We have managed to learn something that may well have significance, and yet I fear that the whole situation regarding my companion's nature and his origins remains as unclear as it ever was.

This village, where Big Karl was born and has lived most of his life, is just about as much of a backwater as you might expect. Or it would be, except for one circumstance. The proximity to the university town of Ingolstadt, where a number of them find employment, has rendered the inhabitants somewhat conversant with the great world. Since our arrival we have encountered two of the local clergy, both of whom at once assumed we had some connection with the university. I suspect that everyone in the village believes the same about us, and that as a result any oddities in our behavior are likely to be tolerantly overlooked.

Since our arrival here we have asked everyone we meet about Big Karl. Apparently he has no immediate family. At least some of these people must know him well, but it would be hard to guess that from their answers. No one is willing to admit knowledge of Karl's present whereabouts, and all have difficulty recalling when and where they saw him last. One old woman, gazing up at my tall companion, took it for granted that he was some relative of Karl's; but when she was told that the visitor was "from the university" she immediately dismissed her earlier impression as absurd.

One puzzling remark I have heard here was an allusion to "those marvelous boots—you know, Your Honor." And of course I didn't know, and don't. Nor has my tall friend the least idea of what the man who mentioned boots was talking about. The mysterious boots perhaps have something to do with the mysterious Grosser Karl, but what? What boots? Neither of us, to the best of our knowledge, have ever laid eyes on Karl, let alone any footgear he might have had in his possession.

Later_Just now, talking to another man, we have stumbled over the boots again. He said: "I mean the ones that Karl was wearing, Your Honors, when he came home from Ingolstadt that time. They fit him so marvelously, and never wore out or leaked. I borrowed them from him once—had to pay to do it—and I hadn't worn them for half a day before they fit me as well as they had fit him when he had them on."

At least I think that is what the last man was telling me; as you know, my German is imperfect. That of my companion is notably better, but even I can tell that his is an educated version of the language, and not the German that any of Big Karl's friends and relatives here are speaking.

My friend has now, I think, given up entirely on the strange idea that he is really Karl himself, somehow transformed by electricity and the magic of the laboratory. We have encountered nothing here that would support that notion in the least. Now, when I try to press him on what he currently believes, his face clouds over and he shakes his great head in silence.

By all reports Karl is a physically huge man, comparable in size to my friend—what we have seen of his relatives are all large people too—and is known for a certain cunning, and for his way of keeping his thoughts to himself until he judges that the proper time to act has come.

But where is he now? No one here knows. Or, more likely, no one of these shrewd suspicious peasants is going to tell us, at least not until they have a better idea of why we are asking, what will happen to their fellow villager when he is found.

We try our best to be reassuring on that score, but so far without result.

I shall dispatch this letter through the Ingolstadt post when we reach that city, unless a better opportunity to send it off should present itself before then. And of course I will write you again, as soon as I have something new to report.

Pray with me that the end of this maddening mystery may be somewhere in sight.

In hopes,

B. Freeman