Mary Shelley began writing Frankenstein when she was only eighteen. At once a Gothic thriller, a passionate romance, and a cautionary tale about the dangers of science, Frankenstein tells the story of committed science student Victor Frankenstein. Obsessed with discovering the cause of generation and life and bestowing animation upon lifeless matter, Frankenstein assembles a human being from stolen body parts but; upon bringing it to life, he recoils in horror at the creature’s hideousness. Tormented by isolation and loneliness, the once-innocent creature turns to evil and unleashes a campaign of murderous revenge against his creator, Frankenstein.
Frankenstein, an instant bestseller and an important ancestor of both the horror and science fiction genres, not only tells a terrifying story, but also raises profound, disturbing questions about the very nature of life and the place of humankind within the cosmos: What does it mean to be human? What responsibilities do we have to each other? How far can we go in tampering with Nature? In our age, filled with news of organ donation genetic engineering, and bio-terrorism, these questions are more relevant than ever.
I freaking love this book. It always makes me sad and emotional to the point of crying.
Frankenstein is the story of Victor Frankenstein and the monster he created. But it’s very different from many of the movies we see based on it. When people hear of Frankenstein they think of the green tall monster with screws on its head, and if you think about that one, well I guess he is creepy and he is quite a good Halloween character. But he is nothing like the Frankenstein from the book. This is not a scary story, well, at least not for me. This is an emotional and utterly sad story about a human, yes, he might look like a monster but he has feelings, and he is terribly misunderstood! He was created and left alone to figure out life by himself. How could I not love him after knowing him?!
When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?
We get to know the creator’s story and why he left the monster he created all alone, but we also get to know how difficult Frankenstein’s (creature) life has been, and how much he learned and felt. He saw how different he was and that others were not only afraid but repulsed by him. He feels alone, isolated and confused. His story broke my heart, and the sad thing is even lesser differences nowadays are still treated as sadly as Frankenstein. People often treat others differently based on, for example, how they look. Frankenstein was not considered to be a person, but we all are, and still treat others badly for their differences? Who are the monsters after all?
But although Frankenstein had a hell of a tough beginning because of his creator, I can’t but pity him too. I didn’t like him in the beginning but after what happened, I understand how the creator felt, and I guess to a certain point it can be (sadly) seen as normal? But the thing is… If only he had stuck to what he did, had tried to understand him, things would have been so different… All that rage could have been avoided and with it, the despair that turned Frankenstein into an actual monster. Although he was turned into a monster, I just can’t fully hate him, and every time I just feel sad and pity him to no end – he only wanted some love, nothing more.
This is a beautiful sad novel, written in a very captivating and feeling way and I would highly recommend reading it! I know I told a bit too much about the story, but I feel that a lot of people think it’s completely different from what it is, and so I just wanted to make it, I guess, more realistic and with that also more appealing? I hope that if you haven’t read it yet, you go and give it a try!
Have you read this yet? What do you think of it? Let’s discuss it in the comments below!