frankenstein, ou o moderno prometeo

cuberta do orixinal inglés (1818)

When I attained the age of seventeen, my parents resolved that I should become a student at the university of Ingolstadt. I had hitherto attended the schools of Geneva; but my father thought it necessary, for the completion of my education, that I should be made acquainted with other customs than those of my native country. My departure was therefore fixed at an early date; but, before the day resolved upon could arrive, the first misfortune of my life occurred – an omen, as it were, of my future misery.

Elizabeth had caught the scarlet fever; but her illness was not severe, and she quickly recovered. During her confinement, many arguments had been urged to persuade my mother to refrain from attending upon her. She has, at first, yielded to our entreaties; but when she heard that her favourite was recovering, she could no longer debar himself from her society, and entered her chamber long before the danger of infection was past. The consequences of this imprudence were fatal. On the third day my mother sickened; her fever was very malignant, and the looks of her attendants prognosticated the worst event. On her death-bed the fortitude and benignity of this admirable woman did not desert her. She joined the hands of Elizabeth and myself: “My children,” she said, “my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect or your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father. Elizabeth, my love, you must supply my place to your younger cousins. Alas! I regret that I am taken from you; and, happy and beloved as I have been, is it not hard to quit you all? But these are not thoughts befitting me; I will endeavour to resign myself cheerfully to death, and will indulge a hope of meeting you in another world.”

She died calmly; and her countenance expressed affection even in death. I need to describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever – that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar, and dear to the ear, can be hushed, never more to be heard. These are the reflections of the first days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the evil, then the actual bitterness of grief commences. Yet from whom has not that rude hand rent away some dear connexion; and why should I describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel? The time at length arrives, when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished. My mother was dead, but we had still duties which we ought to perform; we must continue our course with the rest, and learn to think ourselves fortunate, whilst one remains whom the spoiler has not seized.

Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus

Mary Shelley

pero inicialmente publicada como anónima

Londres: Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor & Jones, 1818 

traducida ao galego por

Fernando R. Tato Plaza

e publicada como

Frankenstein ou o moderno Prometeo

Vigo: Editorial Galaxia, 2000

Cando cumprín dezasete anos, meus país decidiron que debía estudar na universidade de Ingolstadt. Ata ese momento acudirá a escolas de Xenebra, pero meu pai coidou necesario para completar a miña formación que coñecese outros costumes distintos dos do meu país natal. En consecuencia, tiña marcada a miña partida para unha data próxima, pero antes de chegar o día acordado, aconteceu o primeiro infortunio da miña vida, un agoiro, por chamalo así, da miña futura desgraza.

Elizabeth pillara a escarlatina; a enfermidade era grave e corría gran perigo. Durante a súa doenza foron moitos os argumentos que usamos para convencer a miña nai de que non a atendese persoalmente. Ao primeiro cedera ás nosas súplicas, pero cando sentiu que a vida da súa favorita estaba ameazada, xa non puido controlar a súa ansiedade por máis tempo. Atendeuna ao pé do leito, e os seus atentos coidados triunfaron sobre a malignidade da doenza;  Elizabeth salvouse pero as consecuencias desta imprudencia foron fatais para a súa protectora. Ao terceiro día miña nai caeu enferma; a febre apareceu acompañada dos máis alarmantes síntomas e as miradas dos médicos que a atendían prognosticaban o peor. A fortaleza e mais a bondade desta muller excepcional non a abandonaron no leito de morte. Colleunos as mans a Elizabeth e a min: “Meus nenos”, dixo ela, “as miñas máis firmes esperanzas de felicidade futura residían na perspectiva da vosa unión.  Esta esperanza ha de ser agora o consolo do voso pai.  Elizabeth, miña raína, debes ocupar o meu sitio para os meus fillos máis novos. ¡Ah! Sinto abandonarvos; co feliz e querida que fun, ¿non é duro deixarvos a todos? Pero non convén pensar nestas cousas; tentarei resignarme a morrer con alegría coa esperanza de vos volver ver no outro mundo”.

Morreu serenamente, e o seu rostro expresaba afecto mesmo na morte. Non necesito describir os sentimentos dos que ven os seus lazos máis queridos desfeitos polo máis irreparable dos males, o baleiro que queda na alma e a desesperación que se estampa nas caras. Ha pasar moito tempo antes de que a mente poida convencerse de que ela, á que viamos tódolos días ee que formaba parte da nosa propia existencia, marchou para sempre, que se extinguiu o brillo dos ollos amados, e o que o son dunha voz tan familiar e querida ao oído enmudeceu e non se volverá sentir nunca xamais. Estes son pensamentos dos primeiros días, pero cando o decorrer do tempo demostra a realidade do mal, entón comeza a verdadeira amargura da dor. Pero, ¿a quen non lle roubou algún ser querido esa man brutal? ¿E logo, para que describir unha dor que todos sufrimos e debemos sufrir? Ao final chega a hora en que o sufrimento é máis un pracer ca unha necesidade, e o sorriso que apuntan os beizos, aínda que se poida considerar un sacrilexio, non desaparece. Miña nai estaba morta, pero aínda tiñamos deberes que cumprir, tiñamos que seguir o noso camiño cos demais e aprender a considerármonos afortunados mentres nos quedase alguén que a destruidora non arrebatase.