Frankenstein: The 1818 Text by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Frankenstein: The 1818 Text

Mary Shelley's seminal novel of the scientist whose creation becomes a monsterThis edition is the original 1818 text, which preserves the hard-hitting and politically charged aspects of Shelley's original writing, as well as her unflinching wit and strong female voice. This edition also includes a new introduction and suggestions for further reading by author and Shelley e...

Title:Frankenstein: The 1818 Text
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Frankenstein: The 1818 Text Reviews

  • Bill  Kerwin

    It's been fifty years since I had read

    , and, now—after a recent second reading—I am pleased to know that the pleasures of that first reading have been revived. Once again--just as it was in my teens--I was thrilled by the first glimpse of the immense figure of the monster, driving his sled across the arctic ice, and marveled at the artful use of narrative frames within frame, each subsequent frame leading us closer to the heart of the novel, until we hear the alienated yet articulat

    It's been fifty years since I had read

    , and, now—after a recent second reading—I am pleased to know that the pleasures of that first reading have been revived. Once again--just as it was in my teens--I was thrilled by the first glimpse of the immense figure of the monster, driving his sled across the arctic ice, and marveled at the artful use of narrative frames within frame, each subsequent frame leading us closer to the heart of the novel, until we hear the alienated yet articulate voice of the creature himself. In addition, I admired the equally artful way the novel moves backward through the same frames until we again reach the arctic landscape which is the scene of the novel's beginning...and its end.

    This time through, I was particularly struck with how Mary must have been influenced by the novels of her father. The relentless hounding of one man by another who feels his life has been poisoned by that man's irresponsible curiosity is a theme taken straight out of Godwin's

    and the cautionary account of a monomaniac who gradually deprives himself of the satisfactions of family, friends and love in pursuit of an intellectual ideal is reminiscent of the alchemist of

    . Her prose also is like her father's in her ability to make delicate philosophical distinctions and express abstract ideas, but she is a much better writer than he: her sentences are more elegant and disciplined, and her descriptive details more aptly chosen and her scenes more effectively realized.

    The conclusion of the novel seems hasty and incomplete, but perhaps that is because the concept of

    is so revolutionary that no conclusion could have seemed satisfactory. At any rate, this fine novel has given birth to a host of descendants, and—unlike Victor Frankenstein—is a worthy parent of its many diverse creations.

  • Stephen

    My

    , but this

    is going to be a bit

    due to my

    being so

    by the novel’s

    gorgeousness that I'm feeling a bit light-headed. So please forgive the random thoughts.

    Mary Shelley…I love you!!

    Dear Hollywood - you lying

    of literature-savaging, no talent hacks…you got this all wrong. Please learn to read and get yourself a copy of the source material before you

    it again.

    My heart shattered for the “monster” an

    My

    , but this

    is going to be a bit

    due to my

    being so

    by the novel’s

    gorgeousness that I'm feeling a bit light-headed. So please forgive the random thoughts.

    Mary Shelley…I love you!!

    Dear Hollywood - you lying

    of literature-savaging, no talent hacks…you got this all wrong. Please learn to read and get yourself a copy of the source material before you

    it again.

    My heart shattered for the “monster” and I haven’t felt this strong a desire to “hug it out, bitch” since reading

    and

    . The “wretch” is so well drawn and powerfully portrayed that he form the emotional ligament for the entire story. He is among the finest creations the written form has to offer.

    As surprised as I am to be saying this, this novel has ousted

    as my all time favorite of the classic horror stories…sorry Bram, but the good/evil, sad, desperate loneliness of the orphaned monster trying to find a purpose and to define himself in the world trumps The Count.

    As gorgeous as the prose is, I thought it a crime not to include at least one quote.

    The “non-explanation” for the process that Victor uses to create the monster is thing of genius. No other approach could have possibly conveyed the majesty and significance of the achievement, because we would have known it was bullshit. Shelley did it perfectly…which leads me nicely into…

    The corny, slapdash lightning scene is entirely a work of Hollywood? There’s …NO…lightning…scene? Are you kidding me? Even Kenneth Branagh’s supposedly “true” adaptation had electric eels providing power to the “it’s alive” process. All of it bunk. I’ll say it again, Hollywood is a bunch of useless tools. . LIARS!!!

    Speaking of tools, Victor Frankenstein is a giant one. As far as I am concerned, he is clearly the villain of the piece. However, what I found so squee-inducingly magical about Shelly’s writing was my degree of vacillation when it came to Victor’s character. I liked and even admired Victor in the beginning of the story and found his personal journey compelling. He was a genius driven by his desire to unlock the secrets of the universe and had that manic, “mad scientist” focus necessary to the accomplishment of such a lofty goal. However, once the “birth” of the monster came, I found myself waffling back and forth throughout the rest of the story. Ironically, his moment of success and his reaction to life he had conjured was when he began to lose his humanity in my eyes.

    His treatment of the monster was abhorrent. Despite this, Shelley was able to get me to see over my disgust and appreciate Frankenstein’s position and understand why he was so unwilling to continence the existence of “the wretch.” Not enough for me to forgive his lack of compassion, but enough for me to see him as a tragic figure. Huge propers for Shelley as that is excellent writing.

    I would place the monster among the finest literary creations of all time. This singular manifestation of humanity’s scientific brilliance and callous indifference to the consequences thereof is masterfully done. Frankenstein’s “wretch” became the prototype of the literary outcast and every “misunderstood” creature since has been offspring from his loins. His character profile is phenomenal, and just as Victor’s actions garner sporadic moments of understanding for his cruel treatment of the monster, so the monster’s wanton acts of vile cruelty severely test our compassion for him. Tested, bent and stretched, but, for me at least, never broken. I understood his pain…I understood his anger…I understood.

    No spoilers here, but the final resolution of the relationship between Victor and the child of his genius was…stellar. Everything was reconciled and nothing was resolved. The final reckoning occurs and it is both momentous and useless.

    I expected the prose to be good but, having never read Shelley before, I was still surprised by how exceptional and ear-pleasing it was. Her writing really resonated with me and I loved her ability to weave emotion, plot momentum and a high literary quotient seamlessly together. Good, good stuff.

    The novel is structured as an

    using the frame story of

    corresponding with his sister about his expedition to the North Pole. While at the top of the world, Walton finds Victor Frankenstein stranded. This sets up the dovetail into Walton relaying Victor’s story which takes up the bulk of the novel and includes within it the incredibly poignant story of the “monster” in the creature’s own words. It is superbly executed and I thought the framing device was very effective.

    Despite my trashing of the movie versions earlier, there was one scene that I thought was handled far better on screen than in this story. Kenneth Branagh’s portrayal of

    was far more chilling than Shelley’s more subdued recounting. I actually anticipated this segment being far more shocking and I was a tad let down as a result. This is probably my only gripe about the book.

    On my list of all time favorite novels. The writing, the story, the characters, the emotion, the imagery, the power…all off the charts.

    6.0 stars. HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION!

    P.S.(or

    ) I listened to the audio version of this read by Simon Vance and his performance was extraordinary, especially his portrayal of the “monster.” Definitely check it out if you are a consumer of audio books.

  • Hannah

    No stars. That's right. Zero, zip. nada.

    It's been almost 30 years since I've detested a book this much. I didn't think anything could be worse then Kafka's

    . Seems I'm never too old to be wrong. This time, I don't have the excuse that I was forced to read this for high school lit. class. Oh no, this time I read this of my own volition and for fun. Yeah, fun. Kinda like sticking bamboo shoots between my fingernails type of fun. Watching paint dry fun. Going to an Air Supply conce

    No stars. That's right. Zero, zip. nada.

    It's been almost 30 years since I've detested a book this much. I didn't think anything could be worse then Kafka's

    . Seems I'm never too old to be wrong. This time, I don't have the excuse that I was forced to read this for high school lit. class. Oh no, this time I read this of my own volition and for fun. Yeah, fun. Kinda like sticking bamboo shoots between my fingernails type of fun. Watching paint dry fun. Going to an Air Supply concert fun.

    OK, to be fair, I need to tell you what I liked about this....

    Well, Mary Shelley was a teen when she wrote this. Color me impressed. At 19 I was just looking for my next college boyfriend, not penning the great English classic. Kudos to Mary for that.

    Otherwise, I can't think of anything to admire in this book, apart from the fact that it's the only book in my reading history where I actually noted EVERY SINGLE PAGE NUMBER and mentally counted down the time I'd be finished.

    Why did I persist, you may ask? Well, at the point where the pain became mind numbing, I decided to channel my inner John McCain and just survive the torture. Figured it would make me a better, stronger reader. Might even make me enjoy a re-read of

    ....(well, no it wouldn't, but you get the idea).

    is a classic alright. A classic melodrama. Complete with a wimpy, vaporish, trembling prima donna main character and a pseudo monster whose only sin is being uglier then Bernie Madoff in cell block D. After the upteenth tremble/jerk/gasp/faint/start from our mad scientist Victor Frankenstein, I could only sign in relief that he wasn't a Rabbi about to perform a bris circumcism - oy vey!

    Were we supposed to be outraged at the monster's killing spree? By the books end, I was merely miffed that the creature murdered the wrong Frankenstein sibling. He would have saved himself a good deal of traveling (and saved me a good deal of suffering) had he snuffed out his

    before he could high-tail it out of the birthing room.

    I'm sure that the fans of this book will say that I didn't understand the deeper, symbolic nuances of this book, and I'm sure that they are right. At this point in my life, all I know is what I like and don't like in a book, and as far as I'm concerned, this book is unadulterated, mind-numbing crap. But that's just me. Your mileage will vary (as I sincerely hope it does). As for my own mileage, it can best be compared to driving a Ford Pinto in the Indy 500...

    Due to the efforts of a few Kool-ade drinking trolls who have gotten their big girl/big boy panties in a wad over an almost 200 year old book and can't comment nicely on my review, I am suspending all future comments.

    Don't like it? Blame the navel grazing trolls for not accepting the concept of a

    .

  • Emily May

    I was walking along earlier today with

    and discussing the important things like, you know... books. And the subject of our top favourite books of all time came up. Oddly enough, two of our top three were the same -

    and

    . Then Jacquie said her third was a book that I hadn't thought

    I was walking along earlier today with

    and discussing the important things like, you know... books. And the subject of our top favourite books of all time came up. Oddly enough, two of our top three were the same -

    and

    . Then Jacquie said her third was a book that I hadn't thought about in a very long time. That book was

    . It hit me like a shot of good literature: I had forgotten all about this classic that had so affected me, made me think and completely torn my heart out multiple times.

    ? I said.

    You see, though, the best and worst thing about this novel is how distorted it has become by constant movie adaptations and misinformed ideas about the nature of Frankenstein and his "monster". For years I thought Frankenstein was the name of that slightly green dude with the bolts in his neck. Nuh-uh.

    Did

    scare me? Did it have me staying awake and sleeping with the light on, jumping at every slight creak in the house? Was I terrified of the monster and technology and the dangers of playing God?

    Because the beauty of this story is that it isn't the one so many people think it is. Which is almost my favourite thing about it. This book is not a Halloween kind of story with Halloween kind of monsters.

    The book offers many interesting avenues of philosophical exploration if one is so inclined to ponder such things; for example, allusions to religion and Genesis, possible criticisms of using science to "play God", the relationship between creator and creation. All of these things interest me, yes, but it is the painfully human part of this book that has always so deeply affected me.

    Because the sad thing, the really sad thing, is that pretty much everyone has heard of Frankenstein's monster... but so many don't know how

    the character is. Created as a scientific experiment by an overly ambitious man, he comes into a frightening and hostile world that immediately rejects him on sight. Even the man who made him cannot look upon his creation without feeling horror. It's that same thing that gets me in books every time:

    . If people had just been a little less judgmental, a little less scared, and a little more understanding.

    This being, created from different parts of corpses, seeks love and finds hatred, so he instead decides to embrace it. Fuelled by his own rage at the unfairness of the world, he gradually turns towards evil. Everyone knows him as "the monster" so it's hard for me to call him anything else, but I basically always saw him like this:

    He belongs in my own little mind category with the likes of Heathcliff and Erik (aka The Phantom of the Opera). Scared, angry villains who were made so by their own unfortunate circumstances that plunged them into worlds where they couldn't find a place.

    So call it science-fiction, if you will. Call it horror, if you must. But this story is brimming with some of the most realistic and almost unbearably moving human emotion that I have ever read.

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  • Hailey (HaileyinBookland)

    This was awesome. I listened to an audiobook on YouTube (as it is under the public domain). You can find it here:

    . It was great. The narrator did a great job of building the atmosphere and excitement in the story. I always love reading the original stories behind some very iconic pop culture figures. Frankenstein is obviously incredibly popular. It was great to read and do a little bit of a personal independent study on (major nerd here). The perfect Hall

    This was awesome. I listened to an audiobook on YouTube (as it is under the public domain). You can find it here:

    . It was great. The narrator did a great job of building the atmosphere and excitement in the story. I always love reading the original stories behind some very iconic pop culture figures. Frankenstein is obviously incredibly popular. It was great to read and do a little bit of a personal independent study on (major nerd here). The perfect Halloween read!

  • Bookdragon Sean

    Let’s have a party Victor. Let’s get together and celebrate all things Gothic, and dark, and wonderful. Let’s have it in an attic in an old house in the middle of a thunderstorm, and then afterwards let’s go to the graveyard with our shovels and our body bags. Sounds good doesn’t it Victor? We could then create our own doppelgängers from the corpses of criminals and geniuses. Then we can abandon our marvellous creation to fend for itself with his childlike innocence, and then wonder why it goes

    Let’s have a party Victor. Let’s get together and celebrate all things Gothic, and dark, and wonderful. Let’s have it in an attic in an old house in the middle of a thunderstorm, and then afterwards let’s go to the graveyard with our shovels and our body bags. Sounds good doesn’t it Victor? We could then create our own doppelgängers from the corpses of criminals and geniuses. Then we can abandon our marvellous creation to fend for itself with his childlike innocence, and then wonder why it goes so horribly wrong and blows up in our faces.

    Ahh..Victor you silly, brilliant, man. On second thought we probably shouldn’t have that party.

    Yes, lots of blood: the blood of everyone you love, the blood of all your family Victor. You blame the monster, but you are his creator. You should have taught him the ways of the world and guided his first steps. The things you two could have accomplished together. So I ask you this Victor, who is the real monster? Is it the creature that has gone on a murderous rampage or it you? You are the man who played at god and was horrified at the consequence. You judged your creation by his physical appearance, which was more a reflection of your vain soul. Ahh..Victor you silly, brilliant, man. Surely you don’t wonder why the monster revenged himself upon you?

    Indeed, the real monster of this novel is Victor Frankenstein, and not his monstrous creation. The creature is a monster on the outside but Victor is on the inside, which is a form much worse. By abandoning the creature he has taught him to become what his appearance is. The first human experience he receives is rejection based upon his physicality. His own creator recoils in disgust from him. He cannot be blamed for his actions if all he has been taught is negative emotion, he will only respond in one way. He is innocent and childlike but also a savage brute. These are two things that should never be put together. Woe to Victor Frankenstein’s family.

    Mary Shelley raises questions of the danger of knowledge, and shows a probable consequence of trying to play god; the novel portrays nineteen century fears for the rising field of science and knowledge and questions how far it could go. Indeed, in this case Victor takes on the role of a God by creating new life. She also shows us what can happen to a man if he so driven by this thirst for knowledge and how it will ultimately lead to a fall. Victor reminds me somewhat of Doctor Faustus (

    ) in this regard. Faustus is a man who sold his soul to Lucifer for unlimited knowledge in the form of arcane magic. Victor, like Faustus, has stopped at nothing to gain his goal, but in the end is ultimately dissatisfied with the result.

    Suffice to say, I simply adore this book as you may have gathered from my ramblings. I think this, alongside Dracula, are amongst the strongest representations of Gothic literature. Furthermore, I have a real soft spot for epistolary means of storytelling. I’m not sure why, perhaps it’s the stronger sense of intimacy you fell with the characters as you see their words on the page rather than an impartial narrators. You see inside their heads more and understand their motifs and feelings.

    My favourite quote:

    Listen to the passion, to the intellect and witness such a wasted opportunity. Victor, you’re a silly, silly, man.

  • Anne

    So.

    I finished it.

    If you are a fan of classic literature

    are utterly devoid of a sense of humor, stop reading this review right now.

    I've always wondered what the

    Frankenstein story was like...and now I know.

    Sadly, sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality.

    And the

    is, this book is a big steaming pile of poo.

    It's an old-timey horror story, right?

    Not so much.

    I mean, I wasn't expecting it to actually be scary, but I thought it might be slightly creepy. Unfortunatel

    So.

    I finished it.

    If you are a fan of classic literature

    are utterly devoid of a sense of humor, stop reading this review right now.

    I've always wondered what the

    Frankenstein story was like...and now I know.

    Sadly, sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality.

    And the

    is, this book is a big steaming pile of poo.

    It's an old-timey horror story, right?

    Not so much.

    I mean, I wasn't expecting it to actually be scary, but I thought it might be slightly creepy. Unfortunately, the only

    in the story centered around me having to keep turning the pages.

    Unless...

    Yep. Truly frightening.

    It starts like this:

    An upper-crust guy sails off to the Arctic to

    , and to pass the time he writes to his sister. Supposedly, he's been sailing around on whaling ships for several years. And he's been proven an invaluable resource by other captains.

    So I'm assuming he's a pretty crusty ol' sailor at this point.

    So this guy goes on and on in these letters to his sister about how he wishes on every star that he could find a BFF at sea. After a few (

    ) letters, they pull a half-frozen Frankensicle out of the water.

    Aaaaand here's what our salty sea dog has to say about the waterlogged mad scientist...

    Lustrous eyes?! No (

    ) sailor ever, in the history of the world, EVER referred to another dude's eyes as

    .

    Ever.

    And I know what you're thinking.

    Actually, yes. Yes, I did.

    The only problem with that theory is that

    of the male characters in this book sounded remotely

    .

    Ladies, do you remember that time in your life (

    ), when you thought that guys

    had the same sort of thought waves running through their heads that we do? You know, before you realized that the really

    care about...well, all of the things that we do? You thought that while they were laughing at the booger their idiot friend just flicked across the room, something

    was stirring in their mind. It just had to be!

    I'm not sure when it happens, but at some point, every woman finally realizes the (

    ) truth.

    Men aren't women.

    That booger was the funniest thing ever, and

    was stirring around in them other than maybe some gas.

    And that's ok.

    Fart-lighting and long distance loogie hawking contests aside, they can pretty darn cool.

    But this author was too young to realize that.

    My personal opinion is that Mary was probably fairly sheltered when it came to real men. She was a teenage girl apparently running around with a bunch of artsy-fartsy dudes. Much like today, I would imagine these junior emos were probably blowing poetic smoke up her young ass in the high hopes of getting into her pants.

    Although it's possible I'm totally misreading the situation.

    Anyway, Frank tells his story, and Sea Dog writes it all down for his sister.

    In excruciating detail.

    Rivers, flowers, rocks, mountain tops...agonizingly cataloged. And the weather? God forbid a breeze blows through the story without

    a paragraph devoted to the way it felt on his skin or affected his mood!

    And speaking of Frankenstein's

    .

    I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of reading about a character this spineless before. What a pussy! He didn't

    so much as he

    .

    And the swooning!

    He was like one of those freaking Fainting Goats!

    I can't even count how many times he blacked out and fell over. Of course, then he would get feverish and need "a period of convalescence" to recover.

    Again, every episode was recounted with incredible attention to detail.

    I'm thrilled that I never had to miss a moment of his sweaty brow getting daubed with water!

    The

    quoted Milton in Paradise Lost.

    Was this the most painfully unnecessary book I've read this year?

    Yes.

    Is there a deeper moral to this story?

    Yes.

    Some would say, that the monster is a product of a society that refuses to accept someone who is different. Or maybe that Victor Frankenstein was the real monster for not realizing that he had a duty to

    and care for his creation? Perhaps it is meant to point out our obsession with perfection, and our willingness to disregard people who don't meet the standards of beauty as non-human?

    Some might say any of those things.

    , however, learned a far different lesson from Frankenstein.

    And it's this...

    Trust no one.

    Not even someone who (

    ) has been your

    for

    !

    Liar, liar! Pants on fire!

    I read this whole God-awful book, and you quit after 10 pages!

    I'm telling your mom!

    Anyway.

    Here's the quote that sums up my experience with

    :

  • Raeleen Lemay

    This was such a nice surprise! I've been meaning to read this book for AGES, and I've built it up in my head as this super dry, boring book, but boy was I ever wrong. This book is juuuust about 200 years old, yet it feels incredibly timeless, more than many other classics I've read. It was so interesting, and the character of Frankenstein's monster was so tragic (and he can speak! I didn't see that coming thanks to Hollywood ruining the image of "Frankenstein") that there just wasn't time to be

    This was such a nice surprise! I've been meaning to read this book for AGES, and I've built it up in my head as this super dry, boring book, but boy was I ever wrong. This book is juuuust about 200 years old, yet it feels incredibly timeless, more than many other classics I've read. It was so interesting, and the character of Frankenstein's monster was so tragic (and he can speak! I didn't see that coming thanks to Hollywood ruining the image of "Frankenstein") that there just wasn't time to be bored! I also listened to the audiobook narrated by Dan Stevens, and he did an amazing job. Highly recommend!

  • Franco  Santos

    Mucho se ha hablado de

    . Se interpreta como una crítica al desarrollo científico, cuando este sobrepasa el curso natural de las cosas; se interpreta como una crítica a la religión y nuestra relación con Dios; hasta se ha dicho que es una alegoría a los miedos que surgen durante un embarazo. Todas estas lecturas probablemente sean correctas, pero omiten lo más básico. Lo que hace a

    una obra atiborrada de humanidad, con interpolaciones que abordan la desventura a través de

    Mucho se ha hablado de

    . Se interpreta como una crítica al desarrollo científico, cuando este sobrepasa el curso natural de las cosas; se interpreta como una crítica a la religión y nuestra relación con Dios; hasta se ha dicho que es una alegoría a los miedos que surgen durante un embarazo. Todas estas lecturas probablemente sean correctas, pero omiten lo más básico. Lo que hace a

    una obra atiborrada de humanidad, con interpolaciones que abordan la desventura a través de la complejidad de tres voces que derraman soledad y melancolía.

    Si intentara tratar a

    desde lo más superficial, acabaría hablando sobre la profundidad del espíritu humano y los peligros que conlleva un uso desmedido de sus facultades cognitivas o la influencia del sentimiento en sus actos. No se puede discutir este título sin penetrar en lo más reflexivo de nuestra naturaleza.

    , en su perfil más somero, abarca temas que atraviesan la columna vertebral de lo que nos hace seres en constante conflicto de moralidades y en una interminable búsqueda por pertenecer y ser reconocidos, como asimismo incluye el derecho a ser amados por al menos alguien en la vida.

    A partir de un análisis ligero,

    trata la venganza y el abandono. Son las dos cuestiones principales que hacen esta historia una historia con movimiento. La venganza desde el arrebato y la venganza desde el rechazo. También cabe destacar que es admirable la caracterización del Creador y su Criatura, y sus interminables pugnas por quién posee la más dañina amenaza; ya que, si lo vemos de esa forma, y teniendo en cuenta la completa implicación de las circunstancias en la novela, ¿qué es más nocivo, el rechazo injustificado o el asesinato como consecuencia de una iniquidad anterior?

    La denominada Criatura, Demonio, Engendro o Monstruo es de los personajes más humanos con los que me he topado. Es suntuosa la carga emotiva, el abigarramiento en el interior de un ser que fue engendrado por ciencia mal utilizada. Un vínculo irónico entre un hombre que quería ser dios y un ser que siempre quiso ser hombre. Para mí esta es la crítica más punzante de Mary Shelley. Repudia que nos dejemos llevar por las apariencias en vez de detenernos a pensar en lo que estamos haciendo. La egolatría, la soberbia y el prejuicio son lo más lamentable de nuestra conducta como humanidad, y esas condiciones danzaron alrededor del llamado Monstruo y acabaron destruyendo la bondad más pura, que, prácticamente, ni había llegado a florecer.

    No voy a omitir la prosa, que acompaña a la perfección la calidad de este libro. No hay mejor pluma que la que te abraza y te lleva consigo en un viaje por el tiempo y el espacio hacia su historia. Mientras leía

    , me sentía allí, junto a Víctor y a su Criatura, percibía la realidad que me rodeaba como falsa, como un pobre bosquejo de lo que estaba leyendo, y creía que mi pertenencia radicaba en el siglo XVII. La ambientación de Shelley es tan estupenda que fue capaz de sobrepasar los límites de la narrativa e invadir el mundo real. Excelente trabajo de la autora. Su estilo de escritura es de los puntos más fuertes del texto.

    se ha transformado en una de mis obras favoritas. Su retrato de la soledad, el aislamiento forzado, la pérdida y la derrota es sublime. Un relato que se construye sobre lo emocional y que tiene sus raíces en lo más hondo del alma humana.

  • Hannah Greendale

    to watch a video review of this book on my channel,

    .

    A sorrowful tale of lost love and self-loathing conveyed with divine prose.


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