Hideous Love: The Story of the Girl Who Wrote Frankenstein (4 page)

and hired out four horses

to speed us along.

I have to breathe fresh air

and walk about

every time the carriage stops

to keep from vomiting.

We cross the channel

in a small fishing boat.

The water begins calm

as a sleeping dog

but then churns up

into a rage of storm.

Our little boat tosses

to and fro. We sit at the boat’s hull,

my head upon Shelley’s quaking lap.

He fears we will die

on this little raft.

Yet he is not sad,

for in death we will unite

never to be separated.

The storm quells

as we approach France.

Dawn breaks in streams

of orange and pink.

Shelley believes

this to be a good omen.

His spirits lift

like a fog dissipates.

“A bright future lies before us,”

he says.

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A BRIGHT FUTURE

July 1814

I see my future

now not as something

intangible like a dream,

but like a boat

meeting land

after time spent at sea,

a destination I will reach.

Shelley holds my hand

when the water

splashes inside the boat

and the sky troubles

itself with a wicked storm.

He sings to the birds of the air,

charms even the wind

with his words.

He accompanies me,

a noble partner,

as I travel

towards my life.

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RETRIEVING CLARA JANE

July 29, 1814

Our beyond sterling reputations

tarnish

by a single expedition

it seems.

The rumors abound

about our elopement.

Harriet, Shelley’s wife,

goes so far as to say

that my father

sold me and Jane to Shelley

for 1500 pounds.

Stepmother arrives in Calais

with the intent to return to London

with her daughter in tow.

I am beyond saving,

and besides, my father

did not come after me.

Stepmother sends a note bidding

Jane come see her.

Who knows what sorcery

and threats she employs,

but by night’s end

she convinces her daughter

to accompany her back to London.

Jane wishes to see Shelley

one last time

and inform him of her plans.

Why must Jane have counsel

with Shelley alone, I wonder?

Within the hour

Jane decides to continue

on our European adventure

and leave behind her family.

My elopement with Shelley

seems to acquire an air

of permanence now.

And it seems that Jane

may well be entangled

in that arrangement.

But do we really need her

anymore?

I already share

Shelley with Harriet,

must I also share him

with my stepsister?

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NEVER ENOUGH MONEY

August 1814

We embark on

our European adventure,

a sense of daring

on the horizon.

Shelley and I begin

a joint journal of

our travels.

Jane, never wanting

to miss out on anything

we do, takes to her own pen

as well.

We carriage to Paris,

but dear Shelley

did not plan well enough

for this journey.

Sadly we haven’t the funds

we need to continue

on to Switzerland directly

and in the same manner.

Paris is not the city

I expected.

The art lacks spirit

and the gardens stand

formal and dull

as ladies of the court.

But I elope with my dear love

pursuing my heart and mind,

and break away from Stepmother

and Father

and all of their restrictions.

When we haven’t a pound

in our purse,

Shelley asks his publisher

to forward him money.

But all he receives

is a cold rebuke.

I am not worried for

“
omnia vincit amor
,”

love conquers all.

My Shelley sells

his watch and chain

and after much fuss

obtains a loan

for sixty pounds.

Jane and I spend

hours trapped together

with nothing to do

but stare at our bonnets

and practice our French.

I question again

why she is even here.

Shelley says if we are prudent

we can travel

the two hundred fifty miles

by foot to Switzerland

and afford it.

Jane and Shelley

leave me alone

as I ail

and purchase a donkey

to carry our wares.

Halfway to the next village

it appears Jane made

a poor choice of animal;

the donkey buckles

like a woodsman chopped off its legs.

We trade the donkey

along with some money

for a mule. But then

my Shelley sprains his ankle

and must ride the mule.

It must be quite

an appearance

to see Jane and me trudge

behind in our silk traveling dresses

the flies at a constant swirl

about our heads.

Road travel is dirty

as a beggar’s shoe,

and the inns where we lodge

are inhospitable

to anything but rats.

Still I have my Shelley

and my freedom

and that is all

I truly require.

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FREEDOM

August 1814

Unfettered,

with a pen in my hand,

I am as a colt

released from her fence.

I rush toward

new scenery,

devour the landscape

because I have never

witnessed, unbridled,

such freedom before.

I wish to record

every detail,

do not want to forget

the breeze and smell

of each new land

we touch.

For perhaps if I find

the right words

Father will understand

why I left.

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TRAVELING TO SWITZERLAND

August 1814

After much heat and dirt,

but little debate,

we abandon the idea

of walking to Switzerland

and trade the mule

in part for a carriage.

So we travel once again

as we began.

Shelley in a whirl of excitement

like one struck by electricity

loses touch with the ground

on which he stands.

I shock to discover that

he writes to Harriet

and invites

her to join us on this journey,

as a friend.

Of course

she would have to travel alone

to meet us and

is five months pregnant.

He asks her to bring

some legal documents.

That Shelley’s letter to her

receives no response

does not surprise me.

The majestic Alps

embrace me like a father.

I gasp in their presence

and will never forget

the power they wield

just by existing.

The Swiss are as clean

and welcoming as the French

were not. Our carriage driver

says it is because they have

no king to fear.

Shelley finds

a friendly banker,

but the bag of coins

he returns with still cannot

completely fund our expedition.

We rent a house

on a six-month lease

at Brunnen, but the old-fashioned

stove that heats

the two rooms nearly suffocates

us when it functions.

Shelley tells me

as we read Tacitus

that our sixty pounds

have dwindled to thirty.

We possess just enough money

to return home to England

if we travel up the Rhine

through Holland.

Jane reads
King Lear

and on the first stop

of our journey home,

leaps into the bed

with us as she sees

night visions of the dead.

I call them Jane’s horrors.

Shelley of course consoles her,

and I swear I catch Jane

wink at me

like she plays the fox

outwitting the hound.