Author's Notes:
I'd been trying to get back into writing, and somehow got the inspiration to participate in the AHA 2023 Writer's Bingo Challenge. This story was the last in the row and the prompt was "Write Characters Gossiping about a real historical event".
I had the hardest time trying to figure out an actual historical event that I could write about without doing a ton of research. And while Frankenstein is a work of fiction, I thought that talking about it after its release just might qualify as gossiping about a real historical event.
And just a note, in 1818 Frankenstein was published anonymously. Five years later (1823) it was republished with Mary Shelley's name on it. Most contemporary reviews seemed to assume the author was male, only a couple seemed to know that it was a woman and possibly a daughter of William Godwin.
Literary Matters
Pemberley 1818
It was a warm June day, and Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy were comfortably settled together on a chaise near open windows as they both read. Elizabeth was absorbed in the second volume of the new novel Frankenstein, while Darcy was in the middle of the first volume which he had only chosen because he was curious as to why she was so enthralled with it.
As Darcy finished chapter four, he humphed. Elizabeth turned to look at him with a smile. "What is it, my love?"
"I know your father recommended this novel, but how can you be enjoying this tale of..." He searched for a word, "utter irresponsibility. This Victor Frankenstein, first he decides to try to appropriate divine powers, and then when he succeeds, he is incapable of facing the consequences and runs from his creature like a coward."
"I am not sure how much sympathy we are supposed to have with him," Elizabeth replied, "for he shows even greater irresponsibility beyond that, in letting an innocent die for a crime he somehow knows his creation has committed." She shrugged. "Perhaps we should go with La Belle Assemblée's explanation of some kind of supernatural connection between the two giving him that awareness. Howsoever it may be, rather than coming up with any kind of explanation that might be believable to those investigating the crime, he instead comes up with excuses for not speaking and letting the innocent be wrongly convicted and executed. Currently his creation— poor thing should have a name. He says he should have been Frankenstein's Adam, so perhaps we should call him that. Well, Adam is in the middle of telling his story, and we've yet to get at an admittance to the specific crimes Frankenstein accuses him of."
"So you feel pity for this... Adam more than his creator?" Darcy said.
"At the moment, for the creator, as you've said, seems to hide in cowardice and nerves, while the creation has had to scramble and educate himself in a hostile world," she said. "And though I'm not sure who is supposed to draw our sympathies, if any of them, other than the innocent victims, I do find this story fascinating. I wonder who the author is? With the inscription to William Godwin, could she be one of his daughters?"
"She?" Darcy asked with some surprise. "I would rather think a man wrote this delving into the ungodly."
"You, who read The Mysteries of Udolpho with me, would actual say that?" she asked. "Women are quite capable of inventing very imaginative horrors."
He looked at her. "As are men, which you should also know considering we've also read The Castle of Otranto together."
"So what are your reasons for believing a man wrote this?" Elizabeth asked. "Or is it you just made the presumption of authorship and gave it no further thought?"
He looked down at the book. "No," he said after a moment. "There is something in both the desire to explore the arctic by Walton, in addition to Frankenstein's delving into matters best left to divinity... or by nature... to women, since you are the natural carriers of new life." He caressed the small swell of her belly where their latest child grew and smiled at her. "After all, you do tend to say that we men always must try to claim all the world for ourselves. And who but a man would explore the charnel houses for parts, and then create something he believed beautiful only to find it revolting when he succeeded."
"Rather than just tolerable?" Elizabeth asked with a quirk of her lips that he found hard to resist.
"Will I never be allowed to forget uttering such an egregious falsehood?" he asked. "Will you not remember instead how very beautiful I find you now?"
"Cannot I do both?" she asked.
He leaned in and kissed her temple. "Of course, my love," he replied. "Now tell me why you believe the author to be a woman."
"Other than her anonymity?" she asked.
He merely looked at her.
"All right," she said, "I'd say it is similar to your explanation, but for different reasons."
"And what might those be?" he asked.
"Well, to speculate what might happen if men tried supplanting women in the bringing forth of life and show how poorly they would do in comparison," she said lightly.
"You have a good point," Darcy said in reply. "And perhaps it won't be long before the true authorship of this book will be known, and we will know which one of us is correct."
"And which will pay the forfeit?" she asked, slyly.
Their occasional wagers tended to include forfeits that would be pleasing to both of them rather than only one.
"Precisely," he said, leaning in to kiss her. He pulled back when he heard the door open.
Turning his head he was surprised to see their four year old coming in.
"Mama. Papa," he said. "I found you!"
Elizabeth closed her book. "So you have, my little man, but why have you been looking for us instead of napping with your brother?"
"I don't need a nap," he said. "I'm a big boy, not a baby like Eddie."
"But you know you are not supposed to leave the nursery without your nurse, do you not?" Darcy asked, repressing a smile.
Their little boy frowned, and Darcy thought he looked he was looking very like his mother when she was displeased with him.
"But Eddie needs her more," he said. "And I found you all by myself."
"So you have," said Elizabeth. "However, now we need to go back to the nursery so she doesn't worry, and perhaps if Eddie has finished his nap, we can all go out to play in the garden."
Bennet looked up at Darcy. "Papa? May we?" he asked with big pleading eyes.
He tried not to smile. It was hard to resist those eyes. "Only if you apologize to Nurse for sneaking away and promise not to do so again."
"I promise, Papa," he said, then ran to his mother, reaching up for a hug. "Mama, we go now?"
"Of course," she said, holding him for a moment, before letting him go.
Darcy helped Elizabeth up, then knelt in front of Bennet. "Come, show us the way back to the nursery, son."
"Yes, Papa," he said, running back to the door.
"It looks like our reading time is over," he whispered, as they followed their son. "Perhaps this evening, we can continue our discussion of literary matters."
Elizabeth smiled and whispered back, "And perhaps we can conclude it with a discussion of country matters."
Darcy was now very much looking forward to tiring their boys out with play and having an early evening.
The End
End Notes:
It's been a long time since I've had a four year old, so I really hope Bennet comes off as believable.
I really do love the novel Frankenstein, though I'm more familiar with the 1831 edition than the 1818 (there were substantive changes between the two). I do happen to have a couple of The Essential Frankenstein which is an annotated version of the 1818 version, which is what I used for reference to the volume breaks. I also found a website with contemporary reviews, and was quite surprised to find one from La Belle Assemblée, which I only knew about for fashion plates not literature, so I just had to work a mention of that in.
Also, I've never read any of Ann Radcliffe's books so I'm writing from hearsay on that; I just know The Mysteries of Udopho is a famous Gothic novel, and that Jane Austen was familiar with Radcliffe's works. I have read Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto but that was a long time ago, and unlike Frankenstein was not very memorable to me, I think because most of what was new in it did not take long to become cliché.
And originally the discussion of the reasons why Elizabeth thought the author was a woman took a much darker turn, which I thought was counterproductive to the relatively light piece I wanted to write, showing Elizabeth and Darcy as a happy couple with glimpses of their life.
All reviews are welcome.