I know, I was supposed to have read this in college, but I didn’t. I don’t really remember why I didn’t, but it just never happened. There are some books like that when you are a Literature major. When you are reading anywhere from one to three novels per week, there are some that just get left behind. I regret them, and I frequently vow to repent by reading them when I get time. There are tons of those things in my life-- the when I get time things. A few of them are books. Frankenstein was one such novel.
This book found me after being lost for over twenty years. It became a part of my present when a teenaged friend of the family was assigned it for a summer reading project for school. He came to me for help. I decided that this was when I get time, because I could kill two birds with one stone. I could help out a friend, and I could scratch one thing off of my someday list. Win – win!
Somehow, that win turned into a loss.
This still baffles my mind. I love horror fiction, especially classic horror fiction. I love female authors. I love people who are unconventional and who color outside the lines, as Shelley did simply by writing this novel. I should love this book.
I don’t.
Let me clarify a point right up front: I was not expecting this book to be anything like any of the many film representations of the story. I remember that much from college. I knew up front that this book would not be anything like the movies (although had it been like “Young Frankenstein” I’d have married this book).
What I was expecting was a thrilling horror novel with most of the suspense being internal in Victor Frankenstein. What I got was a snooze-fest. The novel is presented in epistle form, and I typically love epistles (there’s a phrase you don’t hear every day). “The Color Purple” is one such example. Frankenstein is not. The “internal suspense” in this novel is really more Dr. Frankenstein being a whiny little girl. He spends all of his time lamenting his mistakes but not doing anything about them until you are about 80% through the novel.
I’m not saying that I hated the entire book. I just hated the first 40%. That first 40% consists of the exposition, which is ridiculously long, and Dr. Frankenstein relating his story to the letter writer. This is really dry because, as I stated before, Frankenstein is a whiny little girl. At the 40% point, the novel picks up. It actually becomes entertaining. “Did Dr. Frankenstein stop whining?” you ask. Nope. This is when the Creature speaks (that’s right, in the book, the Creature speaks). From the moment that the Creature speaks (quite eloquently I might add) until he stops telling his tale, the book is absolutely riveting. I call him the Creature because in the novel he is never named and whether or not he is actually a monster is for the reader to decide. That’s actually one of the themes of the book. I won’t reveal whether or not I think that he’s a monster. I’ll let you decide that for yourself, should you choose to read it.
Just be prepared to be bored for somewhere around 1120 locations. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Frankenstein is also available in DTB format here: Frankenstein
Don’t own a Kindle, but would like to? The latest generation of Kindle is available at the following links: with WiFi only or with WiFi and 3G.
For comments, questions, and feedback, the author may be contacted at: unkemptruminations@comcast.net
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