BOOK REVIEW: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

 

This is a classic horror novel by what was then a young and surprising author. It concerns a scientist who, consumed with the lust for knowledge, delves into questions that are perhaps best left alone. The result is that, through means left undescribed in the book, he achieves the creation of a being resembling a man. Whether or not this thing has a soul is still debatable even in this century, but the result is a phenomenon that is endowed with reason, speech, and all the emotional aspects of a human. Having been abandoned in horror by its creator, it finds its way to the haunts of mankind and, indirectly, manages to learn about the laws of civilization, only to find that its appearance is so terrifying that it is shunned and abhorred. So, it approaches its creator with the proposition that he create again, but this time the product of the creation will be a companion for the monster. When the scientist refuses, the monster goes on a rampage of vengeance that ends up costing the lives of those dearest to the man who made it.

Told mainly in the first person, and changing points of view from the erstwhile scientist to the monster itself, this is written in the romantic style of early 20th century story telling. The author was a young woman (a novelty at that period in history) who was known for her romantic involvement with a poet and nobleman of the time. The novel was originally turned down by several publishers as being too shocking and violent for the reading public but was eventually put into print. It was an instant success, and it has been told and elaborated upon by everything from Hollywood to other authors writing their own versions of different viewpoints of the story. But the best is still the first. This book holds a hypnotic effect that is difficult to pin down, except to say that it is a moral tale about what may happen when man becomes willing to sacrifice anything to attain his own desires.