‘Hateful day when I received life!’ I exclaimed in agony. ‘Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred.’
The first ever horror and science fiction novel, first published in 1818, when Mary Shelley was just twenty years old, Frankenstein has a reputation that has been as long lasting as it is deserved. A beautifully written tale that began as a legendary writing contest between Shelley, her husband Percy, Byron, Dr. John Polidori, and others who were spending a summer together in Geneva, Frankenstein bears little resemblance to the monster most of us recognize from the many film adaptations that we’ve seen through the decades.
The monster is philosophical and brilliant, almost superhuman, and the real villains are those in the story who judge him by his ghastly appearance. There are as many interpretations of the work as there are film adaptations: a warning against humans playing God, the irresponsible Victor whose thirst for knowledge leads to catastrophe, the humans who judge the creature by how hideous he is. Several chapters in the book deal with a family of poor, blind people who treat Frankenstein with care and respect because they cannot see him. It’s written in a beautifully poetic style, was immediately successful, and still finds new and enthusiastic readers today.
There are a few different versions of the book, which Shelley revised in 1831, but most scholars prefer the earlier edition. Shelley had a very difficult early life, losing her famous mother when she was just a few weeks old. Her father, also a well-known intellectual, remarried a woman with whom Mary had a very difficult relationship. Under these circumstances it seems a miracle she was able to write such a classic. Her husband, the famous Romantic poet, also caused a scandal when he left his wife for Mary, and had numerous affairs.
I could write a lengthy essay about this book and its influence and various interpretations, but I’m by no means an expert on her; countless scholars have already done that better than I could, and the purpose of my blog this month is to offer a few thoughts on some of my favorite horror novels. This is an essential one that everyone ought to read. It’s one of the great novels in literary history, a book that will help you understand where the genre came from.
Christopher Tuthill 
I certainly agree with all of this! Frankenstein is one of my favorite novels, and for that reason I do tend to eye all adaptations with a fan’s scrutiny and a little bit of maybe unfair judgment. But I also know that the 1931 film is a big part of the characters’ enduring fame and I’m generally fond of even that strain of the Frankenstein monster.
Repeated rereads of the novel has me not deeming Victor as the monster of the story as is commonly said. I think readers/viewers generally take the black-and-white approach that the creature is the clear good guy and Victor Frankenstein is the clear bad guy. I think that’s . . . off. It’s way blurrier than that. No one’s wrong for saying Victor chooses poorly in crucial moments, and that his initial decision to run from responsibility are what start the creature down his murderous path, but I think Shelley made him, Victor, sympathetic for a reason. He does try to do the right thing, and when he gets to that moment where he has to decide whether to go through with the creature’s demand—make a female counterpart—it should be understandable. He worries two creatures will make a race of dangerous superhuman and though that might just be paranoia, we also don’t know that’s not possible. Maybe it is! So I think it’s understandable that he destroys the body before the end.
One thing adaptations also always do—including, apparently, the new Del Toro film—is make Victor older and more mature. Part of Victor’s folly is his youth and [well-intentioned] arrogance. He is rash and thinks he knows best and that gets the ball rolling in a dangerous way.
I, too, could talk about Frankenstein all day.
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That’s a great point, Jeff, Victor is really not so clear cut as he is made out to be, is he? It seems like he is keenly aware of what he’s done and spends a lot of energy trying to make things right. I haven’t read anything about the new version, but that sounds like it will be fun. I like all those other versions of him too, including Young Frankenstein 🙂
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