check out our:
Such were the professor's words —rather let me say such the words of the fate —enounced to destroy me. As he went on I felt as if my soul were grappling with a palpable enemy; one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose. So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein—more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation. (3.15)
The obvious problem here is the "deepest mysteries of creation": Shelley seems pretty convinced that we should let them stay mysterious. The second problem is the "one thought, one conception, one purpose"—it sounds like Victor really needs a hobby other than digging up corpses.
I turned my reluctant steps from my father's door--led me first to M. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy. He was an uncouth man, but deeply imbued in the secrets of his science. (3.9)
Science is again construed as a secretive art.