Back
Mary Shelley: Frankenstein (Paperback, 2016, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform) 4 stars

Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus is a novel written by the English author Mary Wollstonecraft …

Wonderfully tense atmosphere

4 stars

I read a good biography of Mary Shelley back in April, but had never actually gotten around to reading her famous novel, Frankenstein, until now. I spotted it on a campsite book exchange and thought it really was about time! Frankenstein is such a cultural icon that I assumed I already knew the basic storyline, but it turned out that much of what I thought I knew isn't actually in the novel at all! And much of the novel is far deeper in ideas and tone than many of its recreations would have us believe.

Beginning with letters back home from an arctic explorer, Walton, we learn of his scientific intentions and of his bizarre meeting with a lone man stranded on an ice floe. That lone man is Victor Frankenstein, an obsessive Swiss scientist who had created and animated a monstrous man, but terrified by his creation, had immediately abandoned it. I really didn't like Victor at all. Not only is there his obvious and total lack of responsibility for his own actions and creation, but his incessant 'woe is me' whinging is infuriating. Even as his friends and family start dying off around him, he is still unable to find a backbone!

By contrast, our third narrator, the unnamed monster himself, is surprisingly erudite and eloquent for, essentially, a self-educated vagabond. Of course we only have his own words to support his claim of a kind and gentle disposition prior to the commencement of his murderous spree, but his story of being turned against humanity by people repeatedly recoiling from or even attacking him does ring depressingly true. For a book written practically two hundred years ago, Frankenstein is still remarkably relevant. Denying a person understanding, respect and companionship simply on the basis of their appearance might well result in them becoming an enemy.

Frankenstein, the novel, is written in wonderfully pompous language which dates it but not in a negative way. I don't think I would have been so swept up in the story otherwise. For a violent tale, there is practically nothing graphically described (which I appreciated), but Shelley's build-up of tension and suspense is brilliantly done. She takes her times evoking every scene and landscape so I could always envisage exactly where the characters were. By modern standards, I did think those characters weren't as developed as they could have been. The monster actually comes across as the most human of all and Victor, moving from arrogance to vengeance, simply doesn't learn - I suspect that is the point.