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Excerpt:
JULY 30, 1873
My preparations are complete. My creature lies fully assembled in the bath that has prevented decomposition during the months of finding the right parts and surgically joining them. It remains only to engage one switch--to unleash upon his still form and through his tissues that terrible surge of electrical power--to bring him to life. So great is this triumph that I am determined to make the final gesture at the stroke of midnight. There is a symbolism I will not relinquish, no matter how great my impatience, now that the moment is at hand.
The wait will allow me to begin this, my third journal. In these last hours before bringing my creature to life, I can commit to the first pages of this journal a brief summary of the events--and the purposes--which give it a reason for being undertaken.
First is my deformity--perhaps one of the worst a man could have. Ah, miserable defect! It is a tragic shortcoming, as it were. Yes, shortcoming would be an apt term for a stump of a penis not quite an inch in length when fully erect. I am doomed to go through life without the means for penetrating the natural haven provided for male gratification, thanks to brother Charles.
And throughout my childhood, I was subjected to the oft-repeated assurance of his gentleness and sweet selflessness. Ah, yes! I, Peter, owed so much to Charles--and to John! Being the youngest of the three Brent-Leigh sons, eleven years younger than John and eight younger than Charles, that I must have seemed an animated doll to them. Tales ad nauseum assailed my childish ears about their older brothers' devotion to me. Stories about their saving my life in a near-drowning incident in the pond, or from an attack by a maddened dog, or from near-suffocation in a hedgehog's den.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Aubrey Rain
Copyright © 2017
He also mentioned, somewhat cryptically, the occasion by which he came into possession of a set of notes which, when deciphered, proved to be laboratory data from a successful attempt to restore life to animal tissue.
His second journal began after his travels were completed. Upon the death of his parents, Leigh Manor, where he had secluded himself upon his return to England, passed to him as his share of the Brent-Leigh fortune.
The journal is primarily technical in nature; it is an account of the undertaking which obsessed him from the moment when he appreciated the significance of the notes on the life process which he had acquired. It records his assembly of animal and human anatomical components into a specialized creature and tells how he brought it to life.
In it, he committed to paper his triumphs and his moments of despair as he painfully collected the limbs and organs he needed. It describes how he joined them together in the chemical bath which was supposed to arrest decomposition and provide an environment in which the mutual antagonism of unlike tissues would be overcome. His search for those few organs which he deemed critical to the success of his plan is told with remarkable restraint, and the fortuitous solution to his most vexing problem--acquisition of a suitable brain--is treated with the greatest delicacy.
The third journal--that which is reproduced here--briefly restates the purpose of his experiment, then describes in almost pathological detail the activities which followed. Brent-Leigh deliberately created these journals separately. He considered his life to be compartmented into distinct segments, and chronicled each in its own journal. Had he lived, this journal would doubtless have ended with his decision to marry his second cousin, Cynthia Leigh. He would doubtless have kept yet a fourth journal to chronicle his life as a happily married member of the landed gentry.
