Mary SHELLEY : Frankenstein or the modern Prometheus

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 best-seller 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 ?...

My last #JaneAustenJuly2020 assignment : to read a novel written by a contemporary author of hers. I chose Frankenstein willingly and weirdly enough, but not that much given the fact that pre-Victorian authors never really did it for me, I didn't like it at all.

Not everything was bad : the description of the landscapes, the moment the creature explained his actions to Frankenstein and of course, the philosophical issues addressed by the novel, the nature of life, nature/nurture, the creation of life and its destruction, creating a monster meaning that you're a monster, etc. I am aware that this novel is famous throughout the world more than two centuries after it was first published.

However, I simply couldn't stand Victor Frankenstein, that whiny, selfish coward who spent his time complaining, crying, fainting, feeling sorry for himself, running from his responsibilities. My first good reading moment in the book started at 41% when the creature talked (that was short...), but before and afterwards : only Frankenstein ! I hate Frankenstein !

He created the monster and made him different, too tall, too intelligent (it was hard to believe), too ugly, so ugly that even himself was frightened and ran the minute the creature came to life. I know that during the Victorian era, physical disability was supposed to reflect a mental disability, depravation or ugliness of the mind (and this was written just before the Victorian era, close enough), so I can understand on some level that Frankenstein got afraid but please, he created that face ! He has only himself to blame ! Yet he runs while the poor creature, who doesn't speak, who doesn't know who or what he is is left to fend for himself in a world that rejects him. And Frankenstein keeps running. All the time. Letting people around him die because he's afraid to tell people what really happened : that sap doesn't want to be considered a lunatic ! So the people he loves die, his dogs die, he's ready to let the innocent crew of a ship die because he wants them to fight in his place and do something he hasn't been able to do himself for years ! Yes, years !

So all right, I know that makes him the real monster and all that, but I hated him so much (still do) that it was really a chore to read through the 116 pages of my edition. The longest short book I ever read ! Bye Frankenstein, see you never.