Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus

This book is like a bad dream.

A passionate scientist in the early 1800s embarks on a mission to create life from non-life, resulting in disastrous consequences.

All I remember from the abridged version, I read as a kid was a man made a monster and may or may not have made a female companion for him. I'd forgotten that Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster. I haven't watched any of the movies. So I read this with untainted perspective.

For people expecting a sci-fi - there are no technical details. A ‘spark of life' and ‘chemical instruments' are all he needed to make a live being. That was a disappointment. It was clever though. Technicalities would have been pretty soon outdated. It was either none or nonsense. The book is long enough, and I'm glad she chose none.

Passion
The book begins with passion, goes through a lot of emotions and ends in tragedy.
“nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose - a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye” -from Robert's letter.

The creature is a direct consequence of the fiery passion of Frankenstein.
“A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father would claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs”
And then when the big guy starts moving, like a switch was flipped, Frankenstein's feelings change. Working on this project for 2 years, and only when it starts moving the dream bubble pops; his heart fills with “breathless horror and disgust”. It was not a deed or a conversation or the countenance that made him loathe it. It was the mere sight of him ‘alive.' When it was merely a science project, a goal to achieve, the ugliness did not matter. Did he foresee the ‘completely understandable havoc', the big guy was gonna wreck? Or was it simply because he was ugly? If the latter is the reason, which is more likely, then that was a pathetic turn of events. He did not even have a chance. With the power to meddle in nature's affairs comes responsibility to deal with the consequences, which I think is the point of the story.

“A human being in perfection ought always to preserve calm and peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory device to disturb his tranquility. I do not think that pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this truth”

It is a socially acceptable psychosis when a scientist puts so much into work or a students prepares really hard for a test and everything around them ceases to matter. Full-on passion levitating you off ground reality is cool until you hit the ground with a thud.

Nature
Throughout the novel, the author spares no words in describing the grandeur of nature surrounding, encompassing our lead character, who is comparatively miniscule - the magnificence of the mountains, the raging avalanches, the torrential downpour, thunder, the winding river and the unrelenting wind, through which this lone man, a dot in the vastness, tries to wade through.
The apparent insurmountability is subtly intended.

Who's right.
Definitely the big guy. What was he to do? He was reasonable. Frankenstein could have atleast made him an infertile partner, they might have happily lived ever after. (If it was in the 21st century there is a slight chance of her going woke and spouting ‘I'm not made for a man' nonsense. Anyway...

How a fully grown ugly looking infant would survive in the wilderness of the society would be an interesting thought experiment. Other than the crash course on everything and anything else, he learns as a peeping tom on a whole family, our big guy has had no parenting. He believes he owes his compassionate personality to his ‘protectors', and if they were soldiers instead of a ‘loving family', he would have had a completely different outlook on life. Frankenstein refuses to believe the effect the nurture on the big guy; he calls him a daemon, a wretch and doesn't believe that his nature will change(?)

Is this just real lifeis this just fantasy
Is any of it real?
If not written as a recording of Robert's experience, this surely could be considered under the heading of ‘unreliable narrator'. Just for the sake of it, if we consider the story without Robert in it, everything following Frankenstein getting sick from too much work could be just dreams and hallucinations.

This book is like a bad dream. Why? Because the story goes everywhere.
There's a guy climbing mountains during rainstorms and avalanches, jailbreaking, enjoying the vista while sailing, a murder investigation, romance, capital punishment and making 8foot tall live being. Like dreams where you are chasing down the bus you just missed one moment, and the next moment you are in class, pantless; it appears incoherent from the outside but coherent from the outside.
And for some reason, the Kindle edition of this book I got was typed(?) twice; the book was over when I thought it was only half way through. I'll admit there was a sigh of relief, because things couldn't get worse, and there was nowhere the novel could go from there. Still unexpected abrupt endings are disappointing.

It's a tragic novel. There are plenty of literary effusions, so much of emotions that might seem a little over the top. The images are sharp, emotions intense, it was a novel idea at the time and there's nothing quite like this since or before this. As a ‘sci-fi' venture during the romantic era, Frankenstein surely deserves the unique status it has in literature.