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 Science and desire August 30, 2008
Inevitably dated by style and pace, not to mention a somewhat heavy-handed way with analogy, this remains a touchstone for gothic and speculative fiction. Any horror comes purely from the internal dialogues of Victor Frankenstein himself, and from the taunts of his creation, rather than from the kind of vivid and bloody description that is the mark of more contemporary scary stuff.
Some interesting questions rear their heads about science and desire, inception and revenge, not to mention some seemingly unintended ones - for a book by the daughter of an early anarchist and an early feminist, both women and politics are surprisingly absent. But worth a look.
 Focus on Emotional Tragedy and The Personal Responsibility of The Scientist August 4, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
This book is a "must read" for all science fiction / horror lovers, as you will be able to, as previously pointed out by other reviewers, trace the roots and themes of the genre back to its beginnings.
The depth of the book, however, lies in the poignant questions Shelley raises about scientific discovery and creation. These issues are as valid today as they were at the time and have been literary motifs ever since. Shelley's discussion of these themes makes this book a classic, and as such it should be understood.
If you are only familiar with Frankenstein's monster through film adaptations, you will discover an entirely different story, depicting the monster as a tragic and unloved hero, who turns into a brute following the betrayal by his creator, Victor Frankienstein.
Shelley's story centres around the emotional tragedy endured by the monster rather than on the depiction of his crimes or his outward appearance. In this context, we have to mention that the reader does not even find out how Frankenstein assembled his monster or how he infused him with life. This aspect of the story is entirely left to the reader's imagination.
 "The author at once of my existence and of its unspeakable torments" March 5, 2008
This is a review of the Oxford World's Classics edition, edited and introduced by Marilyn Butler of Exeter College, Oxford. She explains in her note on the text why the 1818 version is preferred - "it delivers an original, specific and profound fable about the modern world in conditions of social change" - rather than the usual published text of the amended 1831 edition. I agree that the original edition has a raw edge, a directness, and a refusal to concede to societal norms that is not so prominent in the later massaged text.
I came to the novel with an open mind, but with an appreciation that Hollywood had cemented the story as a classic of gothic horror. And yet the monsters tale of his `adventures' with the de Lacey family, for example, seemed worlds away from the `traditional' tale as told by American cinema. (Hence, presumably, Kenneth Branagh's 1994 adaptation bearing the conscious title "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein".)
The novel is very well-written and conceived. It is interesting for its literary-historical and scientific context, but of far more interest to me are the philosophical issues that it (unconsciously?) raises. It is geographically incoherent in places, as is the plot, but plot is not really the reason for this novel, is it?
The actual physical creation of the monster is, surprisingly, sparsely described, covering barely two paragraphs, and even then only a vague illustration is given. Throughout the novel, there are only indistinct allusions to his form. Captain Walton, for example, merely says that he was "gigantic in stature, yet uncouth and distorted in his proportions. ... his face was concealed by long locks of ragged hair; but one vast hand was extended, in colour and apparent texture like that of a mummy".
Frankenstein's rejection of his creation so soon after having given life to it - indeed, at the very point of giving life to it - after so determined and intense a devotion to the cause, seems to me to mirror the immense shame and repugnance that civilisation can inculcate at the moment of sexual orgasm in `inappropriate circumstances'. Or, given the gender of the book's author, perhaps a more relevant analogy would be giving birth to a child conceived in shameful circumstances. His rejection of his act is absolute and unyielding. He does not return to his studies to rectify his mistakes in the creation of another, or seek to modify the result that he has created. Instead, he turns his back and falls into a great depression.
Meanwhile the monster plays the part of an extraterrestrial. Initially completely alien to his surroundings, Mary Shelley uses this position to allow him to comment as an outsider on the nature of humanity. The monster says how the de Lacey cottage was "the school in which I studied human nature." Thus, he who was the experiment has now become the experimenter. "Perhaps [he remarks], if my first introduction to humanity had been made by a young soldier, burning for glory and slaughter, I should have been imbued with different sensations", than those provided by the de Laceys and their humanistic literature.
On one level the story is akin to `Beauty and the Beast', `Cyrano de Bergerac', the `Elephant Man', or `E.T.'. But why did not Frankenstein simply learn to accept his creation? He is the creator, he is the monster's god. Is this a metaphor on man's place in God's creation? (At one point, he compares his situation explicitly with Adam.) Is this a comment on the Christian religion, when the monster describes Frankenstein as "the author at once of my existence and of its unspeakable torments" in a time of upheaval and speculation in post-Enlightenment but pre-Darwinian educated circles, when deism was becoming a reputable opinion? The monster again: "The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil."
Marilyn Butler's 42-page introduction, is of the usual high standard that one comes to expect from this publisher. She details Mary Shelley's beginnings, her family and her relationship with her husband. She goes on to describe their relationship with the radical science of the period in which they lived. She explains the ghost-story competition context from which the novel arose. There then follows a critique of the novel itself.
There are three appendices to this Oxford World's Classics edition. The first is Mary Shelley's preface to the amended 1831 edition, where she gives details about the inspiration for the tale and the story behind its creation. The second details the changes made to the text, or rather denotes the additions thereto but not (for some reason) the omissions. ... lists these changes and the reasons for them. The third and final appendix is an extract from an 1820 edition of the Quarterly Review, a nineteenth-century Tory version of the London Review of Books. The extract is not a review of Mary Shelley's `Frankenstein', but is principally concerned with the lectures of William Lawrence FRS and whether the life-force and greater mental capacities of humans (compared to other animals) is inherited or `super-added'. It is these extras - and the use of the 1818 text - that make this edition superior to others.
As with all reprints of classic works of literature, I recommend that the so-called introduction (which is really more of a commentary) is best read after the novel.
Evocative creation of a mood of bleak despair February 18, 2007
7 out of 8 found this review helpful
This is primarily a novel that sets out to create an atmosphere of fear, horror and despair and succeeds admirably in so doing. Mary Shelley must have had an appalling dream but she brought it to life in wonderful, evocative language and at such a young age (only 19 when she wrote the book). The monster is so different from the monster of the films. Here he is no lumbering, stupid brute, but an agile, resourceful and calculating creature who can and does conduct a deep and thoughtful dialogue with his creator when explaining his background story. But at the same time the monster carries out horrible murders of Frankenstein's nearest and dearest and these deaths are shocking when they happen. The science is almost non-existent and we never find out how Frankenstein creates the monster nor indeed what the monster really looks like other than being repulsively hideous. But that is not the purpose of the book, which is to set a mood and raise philosophical questions about the purpose of scientific discovery. And Mary Shelley does this brilliantly.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed it January 11, 2007
1 out of 4 found this review helpful
I normally steer well away of female novelists finding them too sentimental for my palate. However, Shelley's story, albeit far-fetched, is rich in imagery and the diction used is admirable. There appears to be some doubt as to whether the final version was "improved" by Messrs. Shelley and Byron, but I think that would be unfair on Mary.
I think it fully deserves its place among the classics.
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