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Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the difference of sexes, and the birth and growth of children, how the father doted on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the older child, how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapped up in the precious charge, how the mind of youth expanded and gained knowledge, of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which bind one human being to another in mutual bonds. (13.21)
Um, is it just us, or does it sound like the monster is getting some pretty explicit sex education here?
But where were my friends and relations? No father had watched my infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I distinguished nothing. From my earliest remembrance I had been as I then was in height and proportion. I had never yet seen a being resembling me or who claimed any intercourse with me. (13.22)
Basically, the monster is upset that no one has embarrassing naked baby pictures to show his prom date. If you ask us, he should count his blessings.
But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas' books of voyages… A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: (Letter 2.2)
Hm, it sounds like Walton is blaming his parents (or lack of parents), too: he ran wild with adventure stories, just like Victor ran wild reading alchemy. (Come on, we can think of worse ways to run wild.) The point is that neither man had parents to guide his reading—but they both did have "gentle and feminine fosterage," so that's something.