Frankenstein

I've got some words to say about Frankenstein. Some are good, some aren't, and some are just going to correct some misperceptions I'm sure plenty of people out there have about this story and the monster who has become a pop culture mainstay. In fact, let me do that last part first. When many people hear the name "Frankenstein," they associate it with a big green man with an enormous forehead and bolts coming out of his neck. Veins and stitches abound and typically the eyes are half shut in a state of zombie-like stupor. Does this image work for you? Well, it shouldn't. The original monster from Mary Shelley's 1818 gothic horror classic is big and veiny, but the similarities end there; Shelley goes on to describe the monster as having flowing black hair, rippling muscles, watery eyes, and a sickly translucent yellow skin incapable of completely concealing the monster's inner organs from view. Most importantly, while the pop culture "Frankenstein" is clumsy and stupid, Shelley's monster is athletic and intelligent. It is truly a terrifying creature in this regard - a large, powerful, quick, hideous being capable of conversation and emotion. Oh, and this could be common knowledge, but in the book, "Frankenstein" is the name of the monster's creator; the monster itself has no name, and is often referred to simply as "Frankenstein's monster." I must credit Shelley and her novel for having a much scarier antagonist than the semi-lovable goon we know as Frankenstein today. I also credit the book for being much more than just another horror story. There's a whole lot of science fiction, psychology, and sociology rolled into the novel that give it a little more character and flair than I've come to expect from 19th century literature.  Unfortunately, the story was not without its flaws. The narrative itself was not something I would call "well-written." Consider, for instance, that the word "endeavour" was used fifty-six times in twenty-four chapters. I've come to expect superfluous sentences as the norm from the 1800s, but things really started to feel weird when the monster itself began to speak with such pomp and dignity. Of course, perhaps this was only meant to further drive home that Frankenstein's monster struggled with his own humanity, or lack thereof, and also his place in society. At times the story felt stale, dull, and predictable, but for me to sit here in 2010 and point to an 1818 novel's predictability as a shortcoming is asinine at best. So I won't. Suffice it to say that although the conflict and thematic content are memorable, the plot itself just isn't, at all. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, Frankenstein most certainly is another story within a story. But this time around, that tired trope didn't even bother me. Most likely that's because the nested story tied into the framing narrative at the end in a not-entirely-pointless kind of way. But I have no defense for the story within the story within the story. Yeah, seriously. Shelley went there. All in all I think Frankenstein was an interesting, albeit flawed, read. And that's more than I've been saying of most other 19th century literature as of late. Next up will be another Halloween-inspired pick: Bram Stoker's Dracula. I'm overcautiously pessimistic.