There are few more iconic book backstories than that of “Frankenstein.” The tale of Mary Shelley crafting ghost stories on a dark and stormy night with the poet Lord Byron and her husband Percy Shelley, leading to the birth of the novel is practically common knowledge. That, and the rumor that she lost her virginity on her mother’s grave.
This fictitious-sounding, oh-so-eerie lore surrounding Mary Shelley is not the only reason “Frankenstein” is such a touchstone in the literary world. The text itself is just as amazing as we are sure it was almost 200 years ago when it was published.
The Nat of “Nat’s Novels” and the Selma of “Selma’s Shelf” might have contrasting literary tastes (one has never read Jane Austen), but we have at least one publication in common to review together in time for the spooky season.
“Frankenstein” opens with letters from Captain Robert Walton to his sister describing a journey at sea. After these intriguing selections, we are taken straight to Switzerland where we, along with Walton, meet none other than Doctor Victor Frankenstein, the titular figure of the novel. Frankenstein is as frustrating as he is interesting, possessing a complexity that carries throughout the text’s narration as he tells us and Walton his tale of woe.
Frankenstein’s closest friend Henry is another important figure. He brings a genuineness to this eerie and strange novel that is refreshing each time he pops up on the page. Elizabeth, Frankenstein’s love interest, is one of the only elements of this book that can be considered boring, but even her often stereotypical role has its distinct purpose in the story.
The creature, importantly not named Frankenstein, is the most compelling element of the novel’s narrative. The section told from his perspective is so brilliantly done, and is such an interesting, unique way to tell the story of this individual who the reader cannot help but sympathize with.
In the tale of the monster learning how to live, Shelley breaks down humanity to its most basic core. The reader is forced to examine society’s core values and basic institutions, such as language, as the creature learns to survive and attempts to interact with humanity all on its own, abandoned by its maker. Shelley potently explores themes of creation, power and responsibility through her creature — she would probably agree with a certain Uncle Ben.
The novel, while not nearly as horrific as its cinematic counterparts, is arrestingly picturesque. Shelley’s characters are all united by their admiration of the natural beauty of the Alps, the mountainous setting of the novel, reflecting Shelley’s own appreciation of the peaks.
Perhaps your high school English class “Frankenstein” unit was also dominated by discussions of the “sublime” (“of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire great admiration or awe,” according to the Oxford Dictionary). Shelley’s incorporation of the sublime through her characters’ observation of the setting is incredibly immersive and atmospheric — a read of “Frankenstein” sends the Alps straight to the top of the travel bucket list.
Despite the great literary merit of this novel, it is important to acknowledge that it is still a fun read. This text is so incredibly readable, especially considering it was written in the early 1800s. It’s Selma’s all-time favorite classic novel, but take that with a grain of salt, she’s never read one outside of class (a classic, that is … not a novel in general).
Importantly, “Frankenstein” is a feat alone for being a story within a story within a story — it’s like a Russian doll (written by a Brit). The frame narrative adds to both the intrigue and suspense of the novel and is quite literally a blueprint for this brand of horror storytelling and the entire genre of science fiction. The novel’s influence is alive (get it)!
