Back in April, during the early days of the COVID pandemic, like many others, I thought it was an appropriate time to reread Albert Camus' The Plague . Finishing the novel, I was still in the mood for dystopian, plague novels to read. After searching the web, I came upon The Last Man. This particular novel was written by the author of Frankenstein - Mary Shelley.
According to the wikipedia article, The Last Man was first published in 1826 whereupon it received terrible reviews. " Individual reviewers labelled the book 'sickening', criticised [sic] its 'stupid cruelties', and called the author's imagination 'diseased'."
The novel would not be reprinted until 1965, when it received better treatment.
I downloaded the novel from Project Gutenberg and transferred it to my Kindle. Sadly, I did not finish reading the novel. In spite of a fairly decent review in wikipedia, the novel was boring and a bit tedious. The novel did put Mary Shelley in my head, and I thought I might reread Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus this year. I put the novel in the queue.
I had just finished reading four novels (and a short story) by Yukio Mishima with plans to return to the tetralogy, The Sea of Fertility sometime in 2021, and I thought now would be the time to go in a different direction. I began rereading Frankenstein.
Since 2011, I've kept a record of the books I've read. According to my list posted in January, 2012, I last read Frankenstein in 2011. I even posted a review in September 17, 2011. I wrote:
I was sure that I'd read the book years ago, but as soon as opened the file, I knew right away that I hadn't after all. Since downloading the book, I've been reading a few pages every evening. The story starts slowly.......I was all set to proclaim the novel "cheesy"; had I written a review after getting to the death of Victor Frankenstein's brother, William, I would have given the book a very low rating. I'm further along now and it's getting better (though the monster's narrative of the De Lacey family was a bit tedious at times).
Honestly, as I began this reread, I had forgotten most of what I'd read nine years ago. Reading the novel this 2nd time, I don't believe I can be as generous with my review as I had been in 2011. The novel just drags on and on. It could stand a severe editing. It would work better with 140 pages rather than 280. Frankenstein's traveling to Scotland to create a mate for the monster seems a waste of time. Shelley could have left the story in Switzerland, saving a lot of unnecessary chatter. The same can be said for her dragging the story to the North Pole.
The iconic 1931 film adaptation did well to drastically change the story.