Being a review of Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley.
I actually started this book a few months ago; I took it to read while I waited in line for a Hanson concert because it was small enough to fit in my purse. That day I only got through the wonderful introduction. I loved that Shelley spoke of reading over her text, and finding that certain passages reminded her of times by then already long gone. Whether she intended it or not, the introduction is a work unto itself. It speaks powerfully of the arc of a work’s creation (from idea to completion), and of the strong bond a writer has to his or her work.
I was fortunate enough to be totally unfamiliar with the movie versions of Frankenstein. I even thought “Frankenstein” was the name of the monster, not the doctor. So clearly I had no preconceived notions.
I had very little compassion for Victor Frankenstein. I found him to be a coward and a fool, two traits I despise possibly more than any other. I truly believe that if Frankenstein had only done what the “monster” asked—namely, given him a partner—none of the novel’s tragedies would have happened. I believe the monster would have been better than satisfied. He would have been whole. I could hardly bear to read the unprovoked cruelty the monster was treated with by everyone he met. But no one was as cruel as Frankenstein, who created him, abandoned him, and then refused to acknowledge him as anything but a demon. Reprehensible.
I would also like to say a word about the monster’s ugliness. Ugliness is a topic that fascinates me. How does our interaction with a person change once we decide that it is ugly? There a simplistic level to this, but I’m interested in the personal and spiritual aspects of it. What must it feel like to know without doubt that other people find you ugly? One of the great successes of Frankenstein is that it ponders these questions. The monster is not violent in any way until he is utterly rejected by human society. He is scorned only for his appearance. This cannot be stressed enough. Every single character in this novel assumes that Frankenstein’s creation is evil based solely on his looks.
There are precious few descriptions of what the monster looks like, and I’m sure that’s intentional. The biggest lesson I walked away with from Frankenstein was that NOTHING is so ugly as to deserve my hatred. I’ve read other critics who say that the monster is more human than Frankenstein, and before I read the novel I thought they were being extravagant. I was wrong. The “monster” is no more a monster than you or I would be in his place. It’s Frankenstein who deserves that curse, not his creation.
Recommended! And available here.