Review: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Victor Frankenstein, an ambitious and ardent young science student, stumbles upon the secret of ‘bestowing animation upon lifeless matter’; rather than bringing him the glory he seeks, however, the discovery leads him down a dangerous path.

In the testing of his theory, Frankenstein creates a creature assembled from parts of the deceased, and brings it to life, but he immediately feels horrified by the being he has created. To his relief, the creature soon vanishes.

Betrayed by the rejection and embittered by his treatment at the hands of society, the creature seeks retribution, and as Victor’s life begins to fall apart, bit by bit, he is driven to extreme lengths in his attempts to remedy the disastrous situation he has created for himself.

I have finally gotten around to reading this novel, which has been on my TBR list for years, after I recently bought a copy (my mom refused to buy me one when I was younger, on account that she found the subject matter too morbid, and unfit for my developing mind — as a child who took things way too seriously, she was probably right).

Overall, this book wasn’t anything like I expected, and wasn’t anything like any other book I’ve read, either.

Considered by some to be the first science fiction novel, and written by Mary Shelley when she was only nineteen, Frankenstein is a masterpiece, delivering a chilling horror story at the same time as a reflection on human nature and society.

Overall, the book poses the question of whether it is wholly up to us to determine who we are, or whether outside forces bear the responsibility for our nature and our actions. It explores the theme of how humans judge from outward appearances, sometimes with devastating results. It also touches on other deep questions, such as what it means to be truly human or animal, as well as questions about God, science, and the responsibility that comes with knowledge and power.

The format of the book surprised me somewhat; it was part epistolary novel, and part story-within-a-story, which I didn’t know prior to picking it up. However, the structure lent itself well to the story in my opinion, and added to the mystery and tension.

It was beautifully written, with an expressive writing style that created the perfect atmosphere for the story, and it took very little time for me to be hooked by the narrative. I was motivated all throughout my reading by a strong and somewhat morbid desire to discover what happened next, and how the story would have its end. It also had me constantly mourning what could have been, if only humanity was a little kinder (or Victor Frankenstein a little less stupid).

One of the compelling and thought-provoking things about this book was just how deeply flawed all the characters were.

The main character and secondary narrator Victor Frankenstein is especially so, and though he paints the picture to make the creature seem like the monster, and his own actions “guiltless”, one can see that it is he and his ambition that are at fault, and the cause of all the devastation that followed.

One also abhors his cowardice and pride at not revealing the truth to anybody, even when it could have made an effort towards saving lives. It astounds me how Walton (the primary narrator, and author of the letters that the novel consists of) also seems to somehow see Frankenstein as some great and admirable person.

To me, the evidence is clear in the other direction. I personally sympathise far more with the so-called “monster” than I do with Victor himself (part of the genius of Shelley’s writing).

The book also satisfied my liking for a good misunderstood character, and for more than the clear-cut black and white, good and state of affairs; basically, I love a well-crafted villain (though whether that applies to Frankenstein or his creature in this case, I will leave you to decide).

Though the book was well written, I did find some parts of the story a little less feasible than others; for instance, the fact that Frankenstein was happy just to be rid of his creation, and didn’t take any trouble to try and find out where it had gone after it left him.

If I were in his shoes, I would be at least a little concerned as to what it was doing, but he was content to carry on his life almost without a second thought (his levels of procrastination when dealing with his problems are truly aspirational).

There were a few elements like this, but overall they weren’t so far fetched as to invalidate the plot of the novel, and though I noticed them, they didn’t bother me too much.

The ending did feel somewhat abrupt, and I for one did not feel as if everyone quite got what they deserved.

(Mild spoiler)

I think it’s kind of unfair that Frankenstein was remembered fondly, while the so-called monster was left to his misery.

(End of spoiler)

Overall, however, I found this a very good book, especially for one written by an eighteen to nineteen year old; well-written, compelling, horrifying, and thought-provoking.

Though Frankenstein is a horror book, I didn’t find it scary so much as dark and tragic. Some of the elements were rather disgusting — such as the fact that Frankenstein constructed a creature from bits of dead bodies — but even this wasn’t described in detail; it is more the ideas in the novel and the general sense of dread and despair rather than the actual scenes that are horrifying.

However, the book still contains dark themes and somewhat frightening scenes. As such, I would recommend it to mature readers (my mom was right in that sense).

As for me, I am glad that I finally got around to reading this famous book, and to see for myself that it has well earned its reputation as a classic.