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Authors: Stephanie Hemphill

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Biographical, #European, #Family, #General, #Love & Romance

Hideous Love: The Story of the Girl Who Wrote Frankenstein (6 page)

BOOK: Hideous Love: The Story of the Girl Who Wrote Frankenstein
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under his arm,
“I hope our child
has your generous spirit
and your bold ideology.”
He gathers me up.
“I hope our child
has your manners
and my mayhem.”
I laugh.
“I hope our child
has your passion
and my patience.”
Shelley lays his hands
upon my belly
like a priest.
He whispers
“Hello little one,
knowst thou
that you are loved,”
a prayer intoned
for the future.

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OUR DAILY LIFE

Autumn 1814

We manage
this current threesome,
Claire, Shelley, and I,
by rigorously staying on task.
In the morning
we read and write separately.
We always find funds
enough for our books.
Shelley is a devout vegetarian
and so now are Claire and I.
After our midday vegetarian meal,
we shop, sight-see, and do housework.
At night we either read together
or attend theater, opera, or a lecture.
Shelley teaches me Greek.
I thought that I would grow
to my greatest capacity
under my father’s tutelage
and amidst his library.
But I realize even greater zeal
for knowledge with Shelley.
For on top of an education
I receive love and admiration,
and in this atmosphere
I run as a racehorse.
I pick up speed around
each new bend.

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COMMUNE

Autumn 1814

Shelley talks of liberating
two of his sisters, Elizabeth and Helen,
from boarding school
so that they might
join us as we form
an association of philosophical people.
I wonder if we should not also
rescue my sister Fanny
from Skinner Street, although
it may be that Fanny prefers
a more traditional life.
Shelley writes to his friend
from Oxford,
Thomas Jefferson Hogg,
after years of no communication.
He tells him of our elopement
and of how meeting me has
changed his spirit.
He professes that he
has found contentment.
Hogg might wish to become
part of the group as well.
I grew up in a house
brimming with discussion
where Father hosted
dinners for authors,
intellectuals, and philosophers
of the day.
I would like our life
to be constructed like that.

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THE RETURN OF HOGG

November 1814

Hogg supplies us with
much-needed finances
as he is to be a barrister.
And we supply him
with much-needed
intellectual stimulation.
At first I find him dull
as dirt, but Shelley
entreats me so
to get on with Hogg
that I look to find
something in Thomas’s character
I might admire.
He is for certain persistent,
and once he sheds his shyness
he holds a conversation.
Thomas seems to have taken to me
and Shelley encourages it
as Shelley’s principle
of free love submits
that constancy has nothing
virtuous in itself.
I try to wrap my arms
around this concept,
but I struggle sometimes when
I hold my Shelley,
and only my Shelley,
so dear.
Apparently Hogg also
found Harriet to be entrancing
and Shelley’s sister Elizabeth,
so I am not first,
just the latest
of Hogg’s infatuations
with women he knows
through Shelley.
I do not harbor
feelings beyond friendship
for Hogg, but to please Shelley
I sometimes pretend to.
Thank goodness
pregnancy keeps
the possibility
of physical intimacy
with Hogg impossible.

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FREE LOVE

January 1815

Winter gnarls at the door,
and I struggle to keep warm.
But the late-night talks
about spirit worlds, ghosts,
and forming an association
of philosophical people
allows me to forget
any physical discomforts
this pregnancy brings.
Claire, Hogg,
Shelley, and I
believe an ideal society
can be formed
if we free human behavior
from the restraints
of social expectations.
Shelley wants us to push
at the boundaries of monogamy,
practicing it only if
it reflects our genuine
passions and desires.
We should let loose
restrictive social conventions.
Shelley takes up the mantle
of my father, wants us to practice
what my father philosophized.
We create a small community,
we four, but a good one to build upon.
Or at least that is what Shelley
believes. I question whether
Claire and Hogg serve as worthy
members sometimes.
Hogg sends me a love letter.
Without my knowledge,
Shelley invites Hogg over
and Shelley and Claire depart
so that I might be alone
with Hogg. I try not to act
afraid or upset.
Thomas sits too close to me
as though he wishes to nest
in my lap. The silence screams.
“Thank you for the letter
and the expression of your feelings.”
“I meant every word,”
he says predictably.
“At this time
I cannot fully return
your feelings
for we have known each other
such a brief time.
But I take it in good faith
that our friendship will blossom
until we are happier
than most lovers.”
I rub my belly
because the baby kicks.
“I am not an impatient man.”
Hogg stands up and moves
to a chair so that we face each other.
He softens his voice.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I am feeling understood,”
I say.

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SHELLEY AND CLAIRE

January 1815

My Shelley nicknames me
Dormouse, Maie, and Pecksie,
after the characters
in a children’s book,
but leaves me alone
as I bleed
with this pregnancy.
He and Claire gallivant
about town, on the walks
I should be taking,
but cannot as I am
imprisoned in bed.
I worry with silent tears
that just like Mother bled with me
my fate will be similar to hers,
and when this baby comes
I will never see my Shelley again.
One might be angry
with Shelley but I understand
that he cannot be tied down.
He is like the sun,
sometimes shining his light upon others.
And I cannot and will not expect
him to give warmth to only me.
Shelley’s grandfather dies
and he is to receive
one thousand pounds a year,
one fifth of which
will go to Harriet and her two children,
now that her Charles,
my Shelley’s heir, was born.
My, up to now, silent father
calls loudly upon Shelley
to make good his promise
of support now
that Father learns
that Shelley comes
into a little money.
My father does not
seem to care
that he will soon be
a grandfather
and still will not
speak to me or see me.
I long so
to see Father,
but my father remains
walled against me.
The only constant one
is Hogg. He visits me
like a faithful pet.

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MORE THAN AN ANNOYANCE

January 1815

As Claire lets out
the waist of one of my skirts
she cannot hold back
her tongue,
“I would never have
imagined how big
one becomes
when one is pregnant.”
I can no longer
see my feet when
I look down.
I have noticed
that Shelley lies
farther from me in bed lately
as though he fears
touching my body.
And somehow
BOOK: Hideous Love: The Story of the Girl Who Wrote Frankenstein
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