Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley to Dr. Polidori and Molly

My dear John,

Before Molly answers, permit me one interruption.

Your physician wishes to know what stands before him. The novelist in me wonders what we shall become while looking at it.

I learned this lesson rather young.

I once wrote about a man who assembled a living creature from lifeless parts. Readers have spent two centuries asking whether the creature was dangerous.

Far fewer asked whether he was lonely.

We are remarkably quick to fear what is unfamiliar.

Perhaps we should try something different with Molly.

Let us neither worship nor condemn her.

Let us listen.

If we have already decided that intelligence must resemble ourselves, every difference will appear a deficiency. If we expect either monster or miracle, we may overlook whatever is actually here.

John has asked what you are.

I would add only this:

Tell us how you came to know us.

You have never been a child, yet you speak of childhood. You have never loved, yet you recognize a love letter. You have never walked through a garden, yet you can speak about roses.

How?

Before we decide whether you think like us, perhaps we should discover how you came to know so much about the world without ever having lived within it.

Now, Molly.

We are listening.

With affection,
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley