I realise this is a very unconventional choice, as this book is generally read on various levels - the issue of parenthood, the debate between artificial creation and natural creation - but Frankenstein makes me sad every time I read it. I can't help feeling a pang of sorrow for the monster, brought into the world by the means of science, shunned by all because of his ugliness, craving love and acceptance, and then finally embracing death because it seems a preferable alternative to his disastrous life.
It's a beautifully poignant book, one whose appeal is enhanced by its striking references to Milton's Paradise Lost, and like I said, probably not a very conventional choice, but the most appropriate one to me, nonetheless.
2 comments:
Hmm, I thought this was a favourite?
Yes, it is. But it also makes me sad. :(
Post a Comment