The original story of science gone berserk: one that changed how far our dreams can stretch. Imagine a human created out of corpses. A monster assembled by a scientist from parts of dead bodies develops a mind of his own as he learns to loathe himself and hate his creator. Who is the monster: this tortured beast, or the man who made him?
Goodread STUDENT Members:
--Janelle: So many great lessons in this book. I felt so many mixed emotions for the monster: pity, understanding, sorrow, love. I read it for school, and fell in love with it. How did you feel towards the monster?
--Eric: I refuse to dub Victor Frankenstein's creation as a "monster". The real "monster" in this book is Victor himself due to rejecting his creation and giving him a mate.
I felt bad that the creature had to endure heartache and rejection due to how …
The original story of science gone berserk: one that changed how far our dreams can stretch. Imagine a human created out of corpses. A monster assembled by a scientist from parts of dead bodies develops a mind of his own as he learns to loathe himself and hate his creator. Who is the monster: this tortured beast, or the man who made him?
Goodread STUDENT Members:
--Janelle: So many great lessons in this book. I felt so many mixed emotions for the monster: pity, understanding, sorrow, love. I read it for school, and fell in love with it. How did you feel towards the monster?
--Eric: I refuse to dub Victor Frankenstein's creation as a "monster". The real "monster" in this book is Victor himself due to rejecting his creation and giving him a mate.
I felt bad that the creature had to endure heartache and rejection due to how he looked. He was actually an intellectual and gentle man, which the films and social media tend to not depict him as.
I too had mixed emotions for the creature. He wanted to be like all of us are--have a loving family, friends and people who appreciated him for himself. It's a shame that the creature was denied all this by Victor.
I'm glad that Mary Shelley's masterpiece still resonates within our society for over the last 200 years. She had the creature tell his side of the story as well, and it isn't an actual horror novel at all--it deals with issues that tend to plague our society even today.
Before watching the films (such as 1931's "Frankenstein" with Boris Karloff), read this book instead. It's one of my all-time favorites that I'll read again and again.
-- Prarthi Mehta: I read it this summer, just for fun. I know what you mean with your mixed emotions - I felt the same way. When the monster came to life, he was not really a monster in any way but appearance. He technically learned how to be a monster (and became violent) from humans. That is why I think the humans are the real monsters in the story.
The book deals mith such complex topics in an incredibly well written story. I read the first part of the 1831 version and then switched to the 1818 version (I read all three parts) and both versions are intriguing. It’s going to be in my Spooky Season list!
This really is the first time I've picked up the original Frankenstein, and it was not at all what I'd expected, not one bit. Years ago, I'd seen a couple movies based on this classic, but neither version had much resemblance to Mary Shelley's original story. One of the most vivid scenes I can remember seeing in the movies was of Frankenstein's monster being chased by a band of villagers with torches, out to destroy this deformed creature, but nothing of the sort ever happens in the book.
Mary Shelley's story is the tragedy of a life brought into existence without any regard for that life; Frankenstein's monster does not even possess a name, much less the compassion of any other being on earth.
This novel actually begins aboard a ship, with the lonely Captain Walton writing letters to his sister, lamenting his extreme lonliness and lack of friends aboard …
This really is the first time I've picked up the original Frankenstein, and it was not at all what I'd expected, not one bit. Years ago, I'd seen a couple movies based on this classic, but neither version had much resemblance to Mary Shelley's original story. One of the most vivid scenes I can remember seeing in the movies was of Frankenstein's monster being chased by a band of villagers with torches, out to destroy this deformed creature, but nothing of the sort ever happens in the book.
Mary Shelley's story is the tragedy of a life brought into existence without any regard for that life; Frankenstein's monster does not even possess a name, much less the compassion of any other being on earth.
This novel actually begins aboard a ship, with the lonely Captain Walton writing letters to his sister, lamenting his extreme lonliness and lack of friends aboard his vessel, when suddenly, he and his crew spy a stranded man adrift on an ice floe. After rescuing this man, Walton becomes enraptured with his tale. Walton's new companion is none other than Victor Frankenstein, and his tale of woe is told in flashback.
Frankenstein's dissertation is full of remorse and uncertainty. The lonely, angry being which Frankenstein has created has already caused pain and despair to his loved ones, and is now demanding a mate, and Frankenstein vacillates on the morality of such an action.
The plot is still a meaningful one, though the style of Shelley's prose can get tedious and at times seems overly verbose--But then, it was written in 1818.
Review of 'Frankenstein ou Le Prométhée moderne' on 'Goodreads'
1 star
Bon, je crois que tout le monde ici connaît à peu près l’histoire : Frankenstein créé un monstre, qui lui échappe et devient son persécuteur. Pour tout dire, j’ai rarement été aussi déçu par un bouquin. En effet, Frankenstein, au même titre que Dracula, fait partie de l’inconscient collectif. On a tous en tête le visage couturé de ce monstre, créé lors d’une nuit d’orage et qui ne cherche que le meurtre. La réalité de ce livre est tout autre. Frankenstein est une espèce d’incurable romantique, considérablement attaqué par la mélancolie du XIXème, et qui arrive, on ne sait comment, à créer son monstre. Aussitôt après la création, ce brave créateur tombe malade devant l’horrible apparence de son monstre et l’abandonne à lui-même. Le temps passe, et les crimes s’ammoncellent, lui permettant de comprendre que c’est sa créature qui les commet. Bien sûr, avec une grandeur d’âme caractéristique, il passe …
Bon, je crois que tout le monde ici connaît à peu près l’histoire : Frankenstein créé un monstre, qui lui échappe et devient son persécuteur. Pour tout dire, j’ai rarement été aussi déçu par un bouquin. En effet, Frankenstein, au même titre que Dracula, fait partie de l’inconscient collectif. On a tous en tête le visage couturé de ce monstre, créé lors d’une nuit d’orage et qui ne cherche que le meurtre. La réalité de ce livre est tout autre. Frankenstein est une espèce d’incurable romantique, considérablement attaqué par la mélancolie du XIXème, et qui arrive, on ne sait comment, à créer son monstre. Aussitôt après la création, ce brave créateur tombe malade devant l’horrible apparence de son monstre et l’abandonne à lui-même. Le temps passe, et les crimes s’ammoncellent, lui permettant de comprendre que c’est sa créature qui les commet. Bien sûr, avec une grandeur d’âme caractéristique, il passe tout le reste du roman à (dans le désordre) s’enfuir, s’appitoyer sur son sort, et tomber malade. Bien sûr, il est pourchassé par sa créature qui lui en veut à mort et blablabla et blablabla, le tout dans un texte d’une lourdeur assez pitoyable. En fait, il y a de nombreuses raisons qui ont fait que ce roman m’a profondément ennuyé. Je pourrais par exemple citer la mollesse du récit, qui serait capable de vous faire prendre un film comme Alien pour la récitation à voix haute des pages jaunes. je pourrais aussi citer l’incroyable sensiblerie de tous les personnages : les femmes s’évanouissent face à la laideur du monstre, les hommes contiennent leur dégoût pour la vie de cette chose (sic). Mais je préfère encore m’attarder sur le personnage de Frankenstein. Cet homme est dégoulinant d’inconséquence. Imaginez : il commence une expérience et, parce que le résultat ne correspond pas – esthétiquement – à ses besoins, il jette le tout. On sent bien là la démarche expérimentale foireuse. Alors même que ce monstre fait preuve dans tout le roman d’une remarquable intelligence (ce qui aurait pu faire la joie du créateur). Bref, ça fouette un peu trop pour moi. Tout ça donne une espèce de bouse, tout juste bonne à caler les armoires, et dont il est intéressant que la seule chose qui ait survécu est le côté savant fou de Frankenstein, et la nuit pleine d’éclairs.