Frankenstein (The Complete Uncensored 1818 Edition): A Gothic Classic - considered to be one of the earliest examples of Science Fiction

By Mary Shelley

Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus is the original 1818 'Uncensored' Edition of Frankenstein as first published anonymously in 1818. This original version is much more true to the spirit of the author's original intentions than the heavily revised 1831 edition, edited by Shelley, in part, because of pressure to make the story more conservative. Many scholars prefer the 1818 text to the more common 1831 edition. Frankenstein is a novel written by Mary Shelley about a creature produced by an unorthodox scientific experiment. Shelley started writing the story when she was nineteen, and the novel was published when she was twenty-one. Shelley had travelled in the region of Geneva, where much of the story takes place, and the topics of galvanism and other similar occult ideas were themes of conversation among her companions, particularly her future husband, Percy Shelley. The storyline emerged from a dream. Mary, Percy, Lord Byron, and John Polidori decided to have a competition to see who could write the best horror story. After thinking for weeks about what her possible storyline could be, Shelley dreamt about a scientist who created life and was horrified by what he had made. She then wrote Frankenstein.

• Language: English
• Publisher: e-artnow
• Release date: Jun 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9788026838876

Mary Shelley

Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born in 1797, the daughter of two of the leading radical writers of the age. Her mother died just days after her birth and she was educated at home by her father and encouraged in literary pursuits. She eloped with and subsequently married the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, but their life together was full of hardship. The couple were ruined by disapproving parents and Mary lost three of her four children. Although its subject matter was extremely dark, her first novel Frankenstein (1818) was an instant sensation. Subsequent works such as Mathilda (1819), Valperga (1823) and The Last Man (1826) were less successful but are now finally receiving the critical acclaim that they deserve.

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WALTON.

LETTER TWO

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TO MRS. SAVILLE, ENGLAND.

Archangel, 28th March, 17 – .

How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow; yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel,and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom I have already engaged appear to be men on whom I can depend, and are certainly possessed of dauntless courage.

But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy; and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me; whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution, and too impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common, and read nothing but our uncle Thomas’s books of voyages. At that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction, that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my native country. Now I am twenty-eight, and am in reality more illiterate than many school-boys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more, and that my day dreams are more extended and magnificent; but they want (as the painters call it) keeping; and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind.

Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. Yet some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even in these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and professional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of the noblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel: finding that he was unemployed in this city, I easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise.

The master is a person of an excellent disposition, and is remarkable in the ship for his gentleness, and the mildness of his discipline. He is, indeed, of so amiable a nature, that he will not hunt (a favourite, and almost the only amusement here), because he cannot endure to spill blood. He is, moreover, heroically generous. Some years ago he loved a young Russian lady, of moderate fortune; and having amassed a considerable sum in prize-money, the father of the girl consented to the match. He saw his mistress once before the destined ceremony; but she was bathed in tears, and, throwing herself at his feet, entreated him to spare her, confessing at the same time that she loved another, but that he was poor, and that her father would never consent to the union. My generous friend reassured the suppliant, and on being informed of the name of her lover instantly abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, on which he had designed to pass the remainder of his life; but he bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the remains of his prize-money to purchase stock, and then himself solicited the young woman’s father to consent to her marriage with her lover. But the old man decidedly refused, thinking himself bound in honour to my friend; who, when he found the father inexorable, quitted his country, nor returned until he heard that his former mistress was married according to her inclinations. What a noble fellow! you will exclaim. He is so; but then he has passed all his life on board a vessel, and has scarcely an idea beyond the rope and the shroud.

But do not suppose that, because I complain a little, or because I can conceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I am wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate; and my voyage is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The winter has been dreadfully severe; but the spring promises well, and it is considered as a remarkably early season; so that, perhaps, I may sail sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly; you know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the safety of others is committed to my care.

I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of the trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to the land of mist and snow; but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not be alarmed for my safety.

Shall I meet you again, after having traversed immense seas, and returned by the most southern cape of Africa or America? I dare not expect such success, yet I cannot bear to look on the reverse of the picture. Continue to write to me by every opportunity: I may receive your letters (though the chance is very doubtful) on some occasions when I need them most to support my spirits. I love you very tenderly. Remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.

Your affectionate brother,

ROBERT WALTON.

LETTER THREE

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TO MRS. SAVILLE, ENGLAND.

July 7th, 17 – .

MY DEAR SISTER, I write a few lines in haste, to say that I am safe, and well advanced on my voyage. This letter will reach England by a merchant-man now on its homeward voyage from Archangel; more fortunate than I, who may not see my native land, perhaps, for many years. I am, however, in good spirits: my men are bold, and apparently firm of purpose; nor do the floating sheets of ice that continually pass us, indicating the dangers of the region towards which we are advancing, appear to dismay them. We have already reached a very high latitude; but it is the height of summer, and although not so warm as in England, the southern gales, which blow us speedily towards those shores which I so ardently desire to attain, breathe a degree of renovating warmth which I had not expected.

No incidents have hitherto befallen us, that would make a figure in a letter. One or two stiff gales, and the breaking of a mast, are accidents which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record; and I shall be well content, if nothing worse happen to us during our voyage.

Adieu, my dear Margaret. Be assured, that for my own sake, as well as yours, I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, persevering, and prudent.

Remember me to all my English friends.

Most affectionately yours, R. W.

LETTER FOUR

TO MRS. SAVILLE, ENGLAND.

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August 5th, 17 – .

So strange an accident has happened to us, that I cannot forbear recording it, although it is very probable that you will see me before these papers can come into your possession.

Last Monday (July 31st), we were nearly surrounded by ice, which closed in the ship on all sides, scarcely leaving her the sea room in which she floated. Our situation was somewhat dangerous, especially as we were compassed round by a very thick fog. We accordingly lay to, hoping that some change would take place in the atmosphere and weather.

About two o’clock the mist cleared away, and we beheld, stretched out in every direction, vast and irregular plains of ice, which seemed to have no end. Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind began to grow watchful with anxious thoughts, when a strange sight suddenly attracted our attention, and diverted our solicitude from our own situation. We perceived a low carriage, fixed on a sledge and drawn by dogs, pass on towards the north, at the distance of half a mile: a being which had the shape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, sat in the sledge, and guided the dogs. We watched the rapid progress of the traveller with our telescopes, until he was lost among the distant inequalities of the ice.

This appearance excited our unqualified wonder. We were, as we believed, many hundred miles from any land, but this apparition seemed to denote that it was not, in reality, so distant as we had supposed. Shut in, however, by ice, it was impossible to follow his track, which we had observed with the greatest attention.

About two hours after this occurrence, we heard the ground sea, and before night the ice broke, and freed our ship. We, however, lay to until the morning, fearing to encounter in the dark those large loose masses which float about after the breaking up of the ice. I profited of this time to rest for a few hours.

In the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I went upon deck, and found all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, apparently talking to some one in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge, like that we had seen before, which had drifted towards us in the night, on a large fragment of ice. Only one dog remained alive; but there was a human being within it, whom the sailors were persuading to enter the vessel. He was not, as the other traveller seemed to be, a savage inhabitant of some undiscovered island, but an European. When I appeared on deck, the master said, Here is our captain, and he will not allow you to perish on the open sea.

On perceiving me, the stranger addressed me in English, although with a foreign accent. Before I come on board your vessel, said he, will you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound?

You may conceive my astonishment on hearing such a question addressed to me from a man on the brink of destruction, and to whom I should have supposed that my vessel would have been a resource which he would not have exchanged for the most precious wealth the earth can afford. I replied, however, that we were on a voyage of discovery towards the northern pole.

Upon hearing this he appeared satisfied, and consented to come on board. Good God! Margaret, if you had seen the man who thus capitulated for his safety, your surprise would have been boundless. His limbs were nearly frozen, and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and suffering. I never saw a man in so wretched a condition. We attempted to carry him into the cabin; but as soon as he had quitted the fresh air, he fainted. We accordingly brought him back to the deck, and restored him to animation by rubbing him with brandy, and forcing him to swallow a small quantity. As soon as he shewed signs of life, we wrapped him up in blankets, and placed him near the chimney of the kitchen-stove. By slow degrees he recovered, and ate a little soup, which restored him wonderfully.

Two days passed in this manner before he was able to speak; and I often feared that his sufferings had deprived him of understanding. When he had in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin, and attended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw a more interesting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of wildness, and even madness; but there are moments when, if any one performs an act of kindness towards him, or does him any the most trifling service, his whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equalled. But he is generally melancholy and despairing; and sometimes he gnashes his teeth, as if impatient of the weight of woes that oppresses him.

When my guest was a little recovered, I had great trouble to keep off the men, who wished to ask him a thousand questions; but I would not allow him to be tormented by their idle curiosity, in a state of body and mind whose restoration evidently depended upon entire repose. Once, however, the lieutenant asked, Why he had come so far upon the ice in so strange a vehicle?

His countenance instantly assumed an aspect of the deepest gloom; and he replied, To seek one who fled from me.

And did the man whom you pursued travel in the same fashion?

Yes.

Then I fancy we have seen him; for, the day before we picked you up, we saw some dogs drawing a sledge, with a man in it, across the ice.

This aroused the stranger’s attention; and he asked a multitude of questions concerning the route which the dæmon, as he called him, had pursued. Soon after, when he was alone with me, he said, I have, doubtless, excited your curiosity, as well as that of these good people; but you are too considerate to make inquiries.

Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman in me to trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine.

And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you have benevolently restored me to life.

Soon after this he inquired, if I thought that the breaking up of the ice had destroyed the other sledge? I replied, that I could not answer with any degree of certainty; for the ice had not broken until near midnight, and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety before that time; but of this I could not judge.

From this time the stranger seemed very eager to be upon deck, to watch for the sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to remain in the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of the atmosphere. But I have promised that some one should watch for him, and give him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight.

Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health, but is very silent, and appears uneasy when any one except myself enters his cabin. Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle, that the sailors are all interested in him, although they have had very little communication with him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother; and his constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck so attractive and amiable.

I said in one of my letters, my dear Margaret, that I should find no friend on the wide ocean; yet I have found a man who, before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should have been happy to have possessed as the brother of my heart.

I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, should I have any fresh incidents to record.

August 13th, 17 – .

My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant grief? He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated; and when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence.

He is now much recovered from his illness, and is continually on the deck, apparently watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, although unhappy, he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery, but that he interests himself deeply in the employments of others. He has asked me many questions concerning my design; and I have related my little history frankly to him. He appeared pleased with the confidence, and suggested several alterations in my plan, which I shall find exceedingly useful. There is no pedantry in his manner; but all he does appears to spring solely from the interest he instinctively takes in the welfare of those who surround him. He is often overcome by gloom, and then he sits by himself, and tries to overcome all that is sullen or unsocial in his humour. These paroxysms pass from him like a cloud from before the sun, though his dejection never leaves him. I have endeavoured to win his confidence; and I trust that I have succeeded. One day I mentioned to him the desire I had always felt of finding a friend who might sympathize with me, and direct me by his counsel. I said, I did not belong to that class of men who are offended by advice. I am self-educated, and perhaps I hardly rely sufficiently upon my own powers. I wish therefore that my companion should be wiser and more experienced than myself, to confirm and support me; nor have I believed it impossible to find a true friend.

I agree with you, replied the stranger, in believing that friendship is not only a desirable, but a possible acquisition. I once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have hope, and the world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I – I have lost every thing, and cannot begin life anew.

As he said this, his countenance became expressive of a calm settled grief, that touched me to the heart. But he was silent, and presently retired to his cabin.

Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit, that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.

Will you laugh at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine wanderer? If you do, you must have certainly lost that simplicity which was once your characteristic charm. Yet, if you will, smile at the warmth of my expressions, while I find every day new causes for repeating them.

August 19th, 17 – .

Yesterday the stranger said to me, You may easily perceive, Captain Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had determined, once, that the memory of these evils should die with me; but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine has been. I do not know that the relation of my misfortunes will be useful to you, yet, if you are inclined, listen to my tale. I believe that the strange incidents connected with it will afford a view of nature, which may enlarge your faculties and understanding. You will hear of powers and occurrences, such as you have been accustomed to believe impossible: but I do not doubt that my tale conveys in its series internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed.

You may easily conceive that I was much gratified by the offered communication; yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear the promised narrative, partly from curiosity, and partly from a strong desire to ameliorate his fate, if it were in my power. I expressed these feelings in my answer.

I thank you, he replied, for your sympathy, but it is useless; my fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall repose in peace. I understand your feeling, continued he, perceiving that I wished to interrupt him; but you are mistaken, my friend, if thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny: listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined.

He then told me, that he would commence his narrative the next day when I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. I have resolved every night, when I am not engaged, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you

Reviews for Frankenstein (The Complete Uncensored 1818 Edition)

[benkaboo-51322 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Summary: Driven guy takes things a bit too far and ends up creating something that destroys everything:

Things I liked.

Introducing the main protaganist through the eyes of a secondary category. This reminded me a bit of Gatsby and Nick.

Good questions/ideas: The 'Other', obsession, what is human etc. Good fodder for thinking/rethinking about what you believe.

Things I thought could be improved:

Main character is pretty whiney, and doesn't really take a lot of responsbility for his actions. It makes him hard to relate to a bit unlikeable. Given most of the story is told through his eyes that's a problem. I'd probably recommend giving him a bit more self-awareness at the end, preserving his stupidity in the main story, to increase the sense of empathy and connection with his tale.

Some of the plotting is a bit far fetched and obviously contrived to drive the story. In particular I remember when he decides to reveal his secret to Elizabeth but only 'after' their fateful wedding day. If he was going to be truthful with her wouldn't he/she do it immediately. .

Highlight:

Probably when the 'other' spoke for the first time. Hollywood had taught me to expect one thing. I was pretty taken aback and appreciated the variation.

Lessons Learned:

Chill out in life or you might find the object of your obsession ends up wrecking all the good things you have in your life.

[jacqib_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I cried. Despite having been written nearly two hundred years ago this was not difficult to read. It bore little relation to the old black and white horror films I have seen. It was a very moving tale and the passage where the 'monster' experiences snow for the first time was one of the best passages I have ever read.

[rabbitrun_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Victor Frankenstein discovers the secret of creating life and fashions an eight-foot monster, only to bring danger and destruction to the lives of those he loves after the creature is rejected by society.

[sweetiegherkin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An ambitious young man sets forth on a dangerous sea journey to the north when he encounters a lost soul, a formerly ambitious man of science who is tormented by the demonic being he created.As a child, I had read a young readers' abridged version of Frankenstein, which I enjoyed. For some reason, I never got around to reading the original as an adult. Finally, I have done so. I was at first thrown off by the framing device of Walton writing letters home to his sister, as I didn't understand whose these people were and how they fit into the story that I at least knew the basics of in terms of main characters. It honestly takes quite a while even after meeting Victor Frankenstein to learn his whole name, which is just slipped into bits of his part of the narrative. I'm sure that the early readers were more shocked by this monster tale having it couched so, with the story making one think it will go in a certain way (adventures on the sea, perhaps a friendship or even romance for Walton) before making steep turns into science fiction and then horror. However, it did seem a little contrived at times, particularly when the narrative within Walton's letter then contains a letter from Elizabeth to Victor, in which she has to describe to him the role of Justine in his family's household, even though he's supposedly known Justine for essentially his whole life. Nevertheless, this book is amazing in that Shelley wrote it basically on a dare during a holiday with some friends. And the story has clearly endured over the many years, with Frankenstein and his monster being a part of the culture that even young children understand. (Interesting to me that there is really very little description of the creature beyond inhumanly tall with a mummified skin, yet every visual incarnation of him is with green skin, bolts coming out his neck, a block-ish head, etc.) There's plenty of food for thought in here about who is really the villain, what makes a being human (and humane), and how ambition can move science and humanity forward but how it can also blind people into ignoring the ethics of what they are doing. I'm definitely glad to have finally read this classic, but it's not an instant favorite of mine personally.For the audiobook listener, Gildart Jackson did an excellent job. I actually had started a different audio version with another narrator and gave up about a third of the way in because that narrator was a bit too monotone for me to hold interest in the story as a result.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Wordy and old-fashioned in language. All action is told verbally after the fact. The amazing thing with this book is where in the hell Hollywood came up with their version. It's not even remotely like this book. The movie of Young Frankenstein has as much in common with this book as the supposedly serious movies did.

[slysionnach_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Whatever you're expecting, this probably isn't it.And I don't say this in a bad way. My only experience with Frankenstein prior to this had been one false-start reading it (I was young), and the movies based on the novel. Though I have to say "based on" as loosely as possible.Mary Shelley's novel is a story about a man who has created life, though it is hideous and disfigured. This life, always known as "the fiend" or "the demon/daemon," laments his existence, cursing the monster who had created him. Unlike the grunting tones of the green-skinned creature you see every Halloween, this Creature develops as a modern Adam, twisted by the egotistical intentions of his maker.There are murders in the novel, but who is the real murderer is up to debate. Frankenstein, realizing what he's done, has his own opinions. Not so much a horror novel but instead an almost philosophical debate as to the progression of modern science (in the Introduction or Preface, I honestly can't recall which at the moment, Shelley speaks about the science that lead her to imagine this story). It really is a must read.

[lunaverse · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This classic novel has a number of flaws that appeared in many novels back before we refined the art of exciting storytelling to a science. We take several chapters before we even meet Victor Frankenstein, and there is a lot of backstory told that isn't really needed. However, between the unnecessary exposition, there are many exciting and profound, and even emotional moments. Shelly went much further into character development than what I was expecting from what little I knew about the story - I knew the monster is misunderstood, but was not expecting the depth that is offered. The roots of modern sci-fi are found in books like this, and this should be considered a sci-fi classic. I also noticed hints of language and style that reminded me a lot of H.P. Lovecraft, particularly the descriptions of madness and angst, and themes of delving too far. Could it be that Lovecraft was heavily inspired by this novel? Possibly. A great book that should be part of anyone's repertoire if you wish to be functionally knowledgeable about literature and science-fiction.

[jcgirl-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Brilliant and timeless for generations.

[ccookie_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

First line:~ I am by birth a Genevese; and my family is one of the most distinguished of that republic. ~Once again, she asks, why have I not read this book before? I loved Mary Shelley’s writing style. Not too much detail and she builds the characters and the story skilfully. No one comes out of this story unscathed. Dr. Frankenstein attempts to create ‘life’ and creates something he cannot accept. The creature abandoned by his ‘creator’, his ‘father’, is also rejected by everyone he comes in contact with. He lives his life alone, abandoned by society. Every effort he makes to approach humans with kindness and compassion is met with rebuke. In the pain and agony of his frustration he gives vent to his anger, this being the only thing he really knows. Dr. Frankenstein is equally abandoned by and abandons society. It is a tragic tale of fathers and sons, of prejudice and anger. Very sad. No one ever gives him a chance.

[aelizabethj · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Halloween re-read. Pure love.

[ntenenbaum_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Frankenstein, Frankenstein, Frankenstein!!! Such a surprise for me! I thought I knew everything about it even before reading it. Likely because of this popular story of a monster created in a castle by night and during a heavy lightening storm. But no, I was totally wrong and the story isn’t about how to create a monster, it is about how this monster could evolve in human society. It really makes the story interesting, especially because we don’t what to think of the monster. Is he good, bad, both??? Sometimes, this monster reminds me some thoughts I had, like, “if I was born twenty years old and had to figure everything by myself”? Moreover, the monster has the bad luck to be also very repulsive. This book is a classic that everyone needs to read, not to stay on wrong ideas that many people have. Plus, the feelings I felt while reading were very unique and therefore, kind of new. I had never been torn that much about a character, and I liked it a lot. However, I don’t share this feeling about Victor (who is the actual Frankenstein, the creature don’t have a name), I totally dislike him. His first idea to play with life was irresponsible and then he didn’t even take care of what he did. Also, I think that everyone should search in which context this book has been written. It may add some suspense.

[pool_boy · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Another reviewer commented '...This is verrrrry nineteenth-century Romantic, dramatic and melancholy and doomed destiny, played out over beautiful scenery without and horrible scenery within....' And I agree.While I am glad to have finally read the book, and actually got over the Romantic/Gothic whatever style of the writing (so much so that I could probably read other books from this era), I found it a real chore to finish. I just did not care what happened to anybody -- I never felt hope for Frankenstein, the creature, or the friends and family. Perhaps I am jaded, but it was not a riveting or compelling story to me. The one thing I did enjoy about the book was that it was absolutely nothing like all of the silly movies, pulp fiction rip offs or comics of this original story. And the story, despite my not really liking the whole package that much, was quite original. I really liked the fact that the creature was intelligent and could speak (shockingly well).Ah well, on to new stories.

[ougirl · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Another I have read but will read again! Despite its age, deals with some surprisingly modern themes - i.e. how society judges others based on the way that they look and how this can affect the individual concerned.

[narellej_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A true classic. It is nothing like the movies. It is better! Not a scary as I had believed but a psychological thriller.

[jlsmither · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Although I normally love classics, I found this one hard to get into. Victor spends a lot of time whining about how no human has been been half as miserable as he is/was, but not a lot of time actually doing anything about it. This got especially irritating to me when it became clear that more horrible things were just around the corner, and he let them happen because he was too self-involved to stop or foresee them. However, near the end he does finally get that needed motivation, and there are some legitimately creepy scenes, although this section doesn't last very long compared to the whining parts. But I'm glad I read it and know the story now--which is completely different than I expected!

[jmoncton_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Being familiar with some of the different Frankenstein movies, not to mention the TV show, The Munsters, I was definitely surprised by this book. Rather than simply creating an evil monster who must be destroyed before he threatens mankind, Victor Frankenstein has played God and created a being with a conscience and a sense of right and wrong. In some ways, the book is a much more complex and interesting story to discuss and debate. There are no clear villains in this story. However, after recently finishing Dracula, I didn't find this story as engaging or fun. Still a good classic to read. The audiobook has a strong cast of performers including Stefan Rudnicki as the monster.

[ktleyed · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

To put it simply, the gist of the story is "don't mess with Mother Nature" because playing God is never going to do you any good. Poor Victor Frankenstein learned this lesson the hard way when he creates the "monster" who, because of his feelings of alienation from his "creator" goes about killing all of Victor's closest and dearest friends and relations. A depressing story overall and quite a lengthy lead in, but interesting philosophically on the theme of responsibility of the creator of what he "creates". A classic I'd never read before. On audio, narrated by Simon Vance who did a nice accent for Victor, and a very good monster.

[mdabril · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Frankenstein is one of my all-time favorite books, but it's important to understand why people like my enjoy it. If you haven't read the book, it may not be what you think.I love Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. To be clear, she is not the best author ever. Some aspects of her writing are a little juvenile and at times ever downright boring. Even though she herself was a woman, her female characters tend to be somewhat shallow and idealistic. Nevertheless, Shelley has a unique and gifted mind that is almost even prophetic in character. Her novel "The Last Man," for example, is one of the first to imagine the extinction of the human race, which is now a real possibility and an important area of thought. Similarly, Frankenstein is not altogether novel, since it builds heavily on earlier Romantic language, concepts, and images especially from Goethe and Mary's husband Percy Shelley. Nevertheless, she outdoes them by imagining in a prophetic way what the technological creation of new life could mean for the human person.With this in mind, let's be clear that Frankenstein is NOT a scary book, NOT about some dim-witted or pathetic monster, and NOT a source of cheap chills and thrills. It is first and foremost about the scientist who creates the monster. He does so out of a genius that unites both modern science and premodern thinking. Specifically how he makes the monster is beside the point; Shelley is secretive on this matter so that we do not get lost. It is not evident, for example, that he makes it from corpses; he uses corpses for study, but he seems to fashion the monster directly.The principle point of the book, therefore, is the emotion of Frankenstein as he comes to terms with his own creation. That which he fashioned to be beautiful, wonderful, superior to humanity turns out in fact to be hideous, ugly, and terrifying. The monster is superior to his maker in intelligence and power but not morality, and this forces Frankenstein to face his own unworthiness as a creator.Thus while Frankenstein the book is born out of Romantic ideas about the genius, the excellence of humanity, and the transcendence of the Promethean man--the one who dares to challenge the gods by taking upon himself the act of creation--it also profoundly serves as a counterpoint to the same Romantic spirit. This new Prometheus turns out to be a mere, weak man, who cannot quite come to terms with what he has created. Thus like her book "The Last Man," Shelley poses a vital question: Is humanity really still the gem of creation, or will the transcending force of nature ultimately leave us behind in the dust from whence we came?Frankenstein is thus a book that every reader of English should engage at some time. It would help, however, to have some familiarity with Romanticism (see an encyclopedia) and to spend some time reading some poems by other Romantic writers such as Percy Shelley. A brief look into Mary Wollstonecraft's Shelley biography might help as well, since I would argue that she is deeply shaped by the continual tragedies of her life, including the loss of her mother at an early age and a complex relationship with her father.

[lamotamant · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had high expectations for this book going into it and was happy that it was a buddy read in one of my GR groups. The novel is much more character study-esque than things that go bump in the night. I enjoyed the creator/created parallels between characters as well as the juxtaposition of god/man, god/adam, good/evil, a soul struggling versus the happiness of the guiltless (Frankenstein and Clerval), the love of a mother and Frankenstein's love of his Elizabeth, and practical knowledge vs. both morality and forethought of consequences.

However... dun dun dun!

However, though Frankenstein poses a theory that all should be aware of and I found the aforementioned parallels very interesting, there were certain things I didn't like. I didn't like the repetitive yet unsatisfying description of "the fiend." Though describing his features as clumsy and grotesque fit in with the response of interacting characters, I didn't find it very moving. Yes, his face is ugly... okay. He's lumbering and coarse and doesn't look the part of regulation humanoid. There's just only so many times I can read the same deal. I want to know what it actually is that slickens the skin and jolts the nerves upon a glance, an encounter. What stays in the mind, what makes his creation's features strike such an imprint besides the bitter yellow eyes and a murderer's smirking taunt within Frankenstein's being - and all that experience his presence for that matter.

I also sighed inwardly a bit once I realized that the reader was to receive Frankenstein's narrative secondhand. Though Shelley made the effort to add in, later in the novel, that Frankenstein perused Walton's writings and corrected errors, it felt clumsy as secondhand accounts often do. While I tend to appreciate Victorian writer's usage of the omnipresent third person or narrative annexes as a literary tool (Bronte, Dickens, etc.), a word-for-word narrative delivered in letter form by a listener created a bit too much of a disconnect for me. I didn't feel enough personal emphasis from Walton in his own regard. I mean, you sit by someone as they tell you that they not only figured out how to spark life into being but that they did so and are now pursuing same being out into the frigid depths because the fiend retaliated by going on a murderous spree concerning his closest friends and family members... you kind of expect more than, "I see by your eagerness, and the wonder and hope which your eyes express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with which I am acquainted; that cannot be... I will not lead you... to your destruction...learn from me." From Frankenstein... and Walton's sitting in the corner with crickets.

Where is Walton's character arc? Yes, Walton is embarking on a dangerous and foolish voyage because his ego parallels that of the budding Frankenstein's future folly. He has a close female relative (ie Frankenstein's Elizabeth) that he discloses some reaction to Frankenstein's tale to. For the most part we simply see him enraptured by Frankenstein's carriage and intellect. He seemed incidental and forgettable and I wanted more from his corner- I wanted to read of a reaction other than awe in the face of Frankenstein's idée fixe.

Not to mention... HOW did our boy Franky not realize that his fiend would take Elizabeth from him when he explicitly states that he'll be with him on his wedding night?! Of course he's going to kill what you've denied him, the happiness that lies in the nature of a union of equals, an empathetic party to his plight. Can we be a little more naive? Oh wait, we created a monster and then took to our bed hoping the boogie man would go away. Point taken.

Primary disappointments aside, the parallels and the theory posed mentioned above were enjoyed. The subject inspires the moral debates so prevalent in Victorian lit and it's something that has repeatedly drawn me to the novels of the era. We must decide who the monster is, who should prevail (if anyone), and the consequences of man both in his actions and inactions. Prose that can inspire thought is always worth it.

[amydross · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

There are great pleasures to be found in this novel, but overall I am not surprised that it lends itself so well to adaptation in various forms... the concept is outstanding, but the execution is, well, uneven. And overlong. Still, worth the read.

[morgandax · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I hate to say it, but I didn't enjoy the writing style. I wasn't expecting the 'letter' format (where the story is told via a series of letters sent between various characters) so that threw me off from the beginning, and while eventually I was able to get into it and get past that annoyance, I found the story lagged a bit because of it. It's a product of its time.

This is a classic that anyone remotely into horror should probably try to read, the story is excellent, but unfortunately, at least for me, the writing hasn't aged well.

[shamille_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

OMG THIS IS A GREAT BOOK AND YOU HAVE TO READ IT RIGHT NOW. I mean it. go to your library. RIGHT NOW. Well. After you finish reading this >:3This is about Victor Frankenstein, who is so interested in science etc, that he creates a monster. and once he creates this monster, it ruins his life. The hideous being of his creation kills people, who don't accept him, and threatens Victor, leading him and following him everywhere.That's basically all this story is about. It's great though. it's suspenseful and v. deep: like the monster striving for acceptance and humanity and... like he's intelligent and he feels things but in the end he is still a horrible, ugly monster, inside and out. And Victor is battling within himself to: protect his family by being a coward and catering to the monster? or be brave and kill him, to protect everyone... it's... JUST READ IT. GO NOW.Also there's lots of nice vocab words.

[madepercy-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I must say that reading classics often leads to a surprising plot. Stories such as Frankenstein have been re-imagined to death, revived and then re-imagined again so many times that the original story is completely lost, and one's imagination has already been influenced. Nonetheless, the morality of the sciences, when considered in its proper historical context, means that this work is extraordinary no matter how one analyses its significance. Is Shelley really trying to critique the overly task-focused masculine role in child-rearing and the consequences of a lack of nurturing? Or is it simply a case of the morality of the sciences meddling with the unknown, or a critique of the grotesque practice of body-snatching before the introduction of the Anatomy Act of 1832, Shelley's revision of the text and subsequent introduction in 1831 were at the very least contemporaneous. To put it simply, the story addresses multiple issues and provides numerous launching points for discussions that go far beyond the mere plot. As for the plot itself, I couldn't help thinking that Frankenstein was a wimpy complainer who whinged and whined endlessly, even in the re-telling of his tale it is surprising he didn't collapse and die of shame before making it to the ice. I found it unnecessary for Shelley to belittle the Turkish businessman and revitalise the Crusades simply to enable Frankenstein's creation to learn to speak, read and write, but I am often surprised by seemingly intelligent people who are racist and ignorant to the core. Other than that, the higher-level super-plot issues make it worth the effort.

[lycomayflower · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Way creepier than the bolts-in-the-neck monster movies would lead you to believe (with all apologies to Boris Karloff), Frankenstein is really a study of the responsibilities of a creator/father to his creation/child and of the repercussions of failing in those responsibilities. The horror here stems from the obsessive interplay between Frankenstein and his "monster": each feels he must destroy the other. In the end, the book becomes both a sort of twisted Lazarus story and an inversion of Job, where here the creator suffers continued torments and losses at the hands of the created. Drags a touch in places, but in many ways a thrilling and compelling read.

[joles_3 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

There is a reason this book is a classic! There really isn't much that can be said for the book that hasn't been already. The book is far superior to any movie version I've seen. (The closest would be the Kenneth Branagh film.) It is insightful and really gets one thinking philosophically.

[fuzzi_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An engrossing tale of passion, ambition, and desire, and what they do to a person, and those they hold most dear.

[dulac3_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

3.5 stars

Ok, so it’s one of the big two of the great classic monster stories: Dracula and Frankenstein…sort of a literary Beatles and the Rolling Stones scenario. Which do you think is better? Your choice may say a lot about you. Considered a classic both in the realms of science fiction and horror and even granted the distinction to be part of the literary cannon, the pedigree of Mary Shelley’s _Frankenstein_ is pretty much impeccable. This was actually my second attempt at reading the book, however, the first being stymied some years ago by the morose, and seemingly endless, philosophizing of the monster. Somehow this didn’t bother me this time around, and I was able to enjoy Shelley’s nightmare tale and appreciate its classic status. To me the book reads almost like a primer in the Romantic ethos, not surprising considering its author who was a member of one of the greatest literary circles of the Romantic movement. From the emblematic poetry quoted throughout and the many, many (many) paens to the revelatory aspects of wild and majestic Nature to the existential philosophizing central to all of the characters and the combination of hopefulness with despair, this book has the Romantic movement tattooed on its soul.

Regardless of the fact that many see this as the birthing point of science fiction due to young Frankenstein’s pseudo-scientific attempts to create life, I think that these sfnal elements hold a distant second place to the more poetic and philosophical ones in the story. To me it isn’t the cautionary tale of the dangers of scientific progress that is paramount, but rather that of the family. I think _Frankenstein_ is ultimately more concerned with parenthood and its responsibilities, and an examination of what happens when love and its attendant obligations are absent, than it is with the dangers of the advancement of scientific knowledge. Victor is thus not so much at fault because he attempted to emulate God in the creation of life, but because he did not emulate Him in his care for his creation. (Though I think Shelley is herself ambiguous about whether God is any better…there seems to be an implicit judgement in some places that we in some sense share in the Creature’s abandonment.) Victor does not attempt to teach his creature or even do so much as stay in its vicinity after it has been awakened from death, instead abandoning it to the vicissitudes of the world merely because of its horrific appearance. Victor’s fault is compounded by the fact that his own family life was one of bliss with the full support and love of his parents, a fact that Shelley makes sure to underline as Victor tells the tale of his life. Even after his initial rejection by his creator and only link to humanity, the Creature attempts to live as best it can, looking for companionship and love until, driven by constant rejection due only to its frightful features, it chooses a path of vengeance and hate.

Which of the protagonists is the romantic hero of this tale? Is it Victor, who is certainly mad, bad and dangerous to know (though in a somewhat different vein from Byron)? Or is it the Creature who seems destined to most evoke the reader’s pity and displays all of the pathos of the unjustly suffering tragic figure, for all of Victor’s whining about his own predicament? Victor is indeed somewhat laughable in his sentiments (though I imagine this was not Shelley’s intent). There are only so many times that we can hear his inner monologues about how he is suffering more than any of those around him due to the inner torments of conscience, while at the same time he sits safely watching a figure like the poor servant girl Justine who stands alone in the dock awaiting death for a crime she did not commit, before we roll our eyes in frustration. Sure Victor, poor you. The torments of the soul are surely a fate worse than an ignominious death. Victor’s extreme passivity is also somewhat annoying. I’m still not sure why he prefers to sit and moan over the trials that assail him instead of taking matters into his own hands. If he truly believed the creature was such a blight on creation, and one whose soul was irredeemable, then why didn’t he just wait for one of the Creature’s inevitable visits with a gun instead of nothing more than impotent rage and mad ravings? The novel would have been over much sooner and in much less dramatic a fashion, but it strained my credulity a bit that such a ‘genius’ didn’t have this simple foresight. One other moment in the story that stetched my disbelief was the manner in which the Creature learned to read and speak. Let’s just say that it involved an incredibly convenient series of coincidence and leave it at that.

These issues aside, I did quite enjoy the novel. It was certainly chock full of ideas and had some luscious prose. Both were often in a somewhat overheated vein, but, given its place square in the midst of the Romantic genre I could expect no less of it. In addition to the critiques of parental abandonment Shelley also inserts several criticisms of the burden we carry as a result of our self-awareness. Tellingly, both Frankenstein and the Creature bemoan their sensibilities in an almost identical fashion and pine for the state of brute beasts, wishing that they had never “…known nor felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst and heat”. Intellect and feeling are an affliction that the happy beasts of the field need not suffer. Of course it is these very feelings that allow mankind to be both poet and scientist; to appreciate the beauty and wonder of Nature which the book so ardently admires; and to bring about the goodness of humanity as much as its evil, so these critiques are not, I think, without a rejoinder even in the novel itself.

All in all this was a great read; an exemplum of the horror genre still in its infancy…but I still like _Dracula_ better.

[thedivineoomba · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is considered the first Science Fiction Novel by many people. And, while it has many Science Fiction trademarks (new technology, etc), its more a story about the horrors of creating life. There is a reason its alternate title is "The Modern Prometheus".First off - Frankenstein is not a story about monster creating evil scientists with hunchbacked assistants or pitchfork carrying peasants. That is all in movies, and unfortunately, its what most people think of when they think Frankenstein.Yes, there is a scientist. But he doesn't have an assistant, or a castle, or even strange looking machinery. The book doesn't say exactly how Victor Frankenstein created his monster, or even what the monster looked like, except that it is gruesome, grotesque, and scary. This book is really about justice. The monster is angry at being left alone in the world by his creator, unable to be part of human society due to his extreme stature and ugliness. The monster ruins Frankenstein's perfect life, by taking away all that is important to him. This is story about cause and effect, about responsibility to one's creations - even if it was created in a fit of hubris, and the result is so horrifying that the creator runs away.Highly recommended for everyone, although I did read this a long time ago as a teenager - and the message was lost on me.

[louis.arata · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It took reading it several times before I came to appreciate how marvelous the story is. The language initially seemed ponderous, but the more familiar it becomes, the easier it is to enjoy. There are so many different ways to look at the story: themes of creation, the Creator vs the Creation, the concept of beauty, a sense of loneliness, a sense of personal identity. How we define ourselves, how we are viewed by others. It's also interesting to read it through the lens that Mary Shelley may have seen herself as the Creature, given how she was raised by her politically radical parents. Definitely worth reading.

[soylentgreen23 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Good: The quality of this story, in terms of the ideas it contains and the philosophical musings it provokes, is far greater than that of the various movie versions.The Bad: The quality of the writing is not always equal to the quality of the story. This is very much a book written by a relatively young woman, trying to impress a literary scene with her abilities. The dialogue is very weak at times, and there are strange moments when Frankenstein collapses into a fever that last months and months, just to give his creation time to explore the world he finds himself in.The Ugly: Yes, the creature is ugly and terrible, but also very, very interesting. This thinking, moralising monster is much more worthy of our attention than the giant imbecile that haunts the cinema. Reading the story, one also wonders if the general public (or the press) has it right in describing genetically modified food as 'Frankenfoods'. The monster is only evil when he suffers the evil of society around him; he has an overwhelming capacity for love and for good.