The Aquatic Uncle

This past week we read a story in class titled The Aquatic Uncle. It took some scientific principles and dealt with them in an entertaining way. Essentially, it is the tale of evolution from the perspective of the creatures that left the ocean to seek out the land. In this tale, the main character belongs to a family that has abandoned the sea for land - all of them except for one stubborn old uncle. The uncle has remained a fish and scoffs at the family as they walk about on land trying to survive. The uncle is mostly kept secret as he could potentially be an embarrassment for the family - he certainly is for our main character - but he's also a respected member of the family. Each year the family gathers at the edge of the water to spend time with the uncle. Each tries to convince the other to leave their home for the other with neither side agreeing.

The main character, Qfwfq (don't ask me how it's pronounced), falls in love with a female that has become very well adapted to life on land. She is lithe and graceful, embodying everything the land creatures wish to be. They become romantically involved and eventually engaged to be married. As the uncle is an important member of the family, our young love-stricken proto-creature knows that he will eventually have to introduce his betrothed to his uncle. Just as he mentions it, who should pop his scaly head out of the water but the aforementioned uncle. Qfwfq is mortified, thinking that his beloved will think less of him for having an aquatic uncle but she doesn't say anything. Eventually, his fiance begins to ask more questions about the uncle. At first, Qfwfq is dubious, thinking she's making fun of him.

As time goes on and the couple spends more time with the uncle, it becomes obvious that the uncle and the girlfriend have a thing for each other. In the end, the girlfriend leaves Qfwfq and runs away - or rather, swims away - with the uncle.

The story is entertaining but I'm not sure there's a moral to the story. Maybe the author lost a girl to a creepy uncle and is finding a cathartic way to deal with his loss. At any rate, the story is amusing in that it takes something fairly scientific and turns it into something relatable.

Aye, and Gomorrah

This one was a bit odd to me. It was written by Samuel Delaney in 1967 when everyone was experimenting with sex and psychedelic drugs. Essentially mankind has developed the technology for extended trips or colonies in space. I'm not sure whether it's interstellar travel or not since the author chooses to focus not on the interesting aspects of life in space, but on the sexuality of the spacers in question. More to the point, the asexuality, since apparently in this odd adaptation, the spacers are required to be have all sexual reproductive organs removed - essentially rendering them sexless. And how do these sexless space traveler's choose to spend their free time on Earth? Why, whoring themselves out to "frelks", people whose fetish it is to be with people they can't really connect to. The word he chose to make up seems awfully close to "freaks" being that it's only one letter off. I don't know why he bothered to change it at all if that was the case and ends up making me think he was simply lazy.

It just seems to me that this novel was written more as an exploration of sexual fetishes than any real interest in science fiction. Yes, the story takes place in the future and yes, there is space travel involved but the author chooses to ignore his setting and instead focuses on his characters trying to hook up in different parts of the world. He also never explains why these people needed to have their sexual organs removed or what purpose it serves - other than as a vehicle to drive his exploration of sexual amorphous characters.

 Overall, I found the writing incredibly lazy and the story not at all interesting. I was more interested in what mission these people might be tasked with or the particulars in how they "went up." None of that was explained, or even lightly mentioned, which gives me the overall opinion that the author was likely in a drug-induced orgy exploring his own sexual exploration with this story being his recording of whatever hallucinations accompanied the experience.

Johnny Mnemonic

I was actually trying to read Fragments of a Hologram Rose but the links were tied in such a way that made it inaccessible so I ended up reading Johnny Mnemonic instead. I had already seen the movie when it came out in 1995 and was only mildly interested in it. I liked the idea of being able to upload data into your brain but the story was done in such a way that it wasn't all that interesting. One of the problems I've always had with science fiction written in the early days of technology is that many writers lacked the imagination to truly envision the future. So when Johnny is bursting at the seams - so to speak - because of the multitude of megabytes in his head, I tend to scoff as I look at my 64 GB thumb-drive that is actually smaller than my thumb.

Speaking of which, why would anyone need to upload their secrets into someone else's head when they could just as easily encrypt the same data onto a secure thumb-drive? It seems a bit pointless and less than secure. After all, the data did "leak" into Johnny's brain which is what necessitated his visit to the super smart dolphin - which, in itself, is ridiculous.

I'm not sure if the entire point of this story was to delve into the super ridiculous or not. It doesn't seem like parody as it tends to take itself seriously at times. In my opinion, it just ends up a sloppy mess that doesn't make a lot of sense, presenting more questions than answers.

Dawn

This week we were focusing on diversity in science fiction authors. I read Dawn by Octavia Butler and found it incredibly entertaining. It kept my attention and interest, making me care about the characters and relate to their struggles. It also deals with concepts that have always peaked my imagination.

In this story, we are introduced to Lilith - one of the few surviving humans of a terrible nuclear holocaust. She is awakened 250 years after the events that destroyed life on planet Earth by a race of aliens claiming their desire to repopulate the Earth with humans. Because of their extremely different appearance, Lilith is both repelled and distrustful of her benefactors. I found this reaction to be what I typically expect most humans to do upon meeting an extraterrestrial species. Keeping in mind that the author is black and has likely experienced prejudice based on nothing more than her appearance, I found this interaction particularly honest in its approach.

One of the things that was so fascinating about this book was Lilith's slow build to trust the Oankali - the aliens that saved her. The more she gets to know the Oankali, the more she starts to realize that they are inherently more honest than humans are capable of. There are, of course, setbacks in the building of trust. Especially when she learns that there is a price to be paid for returning to Earth. She learns that their species are "traders" in genetic biodiversity. They assimilate desired genetic traits from other species into their own in order to increase their chances of survivability throughout the galaxy. The trade-off comes with a price though and essentially forces humans to take on the traits of the Oankali - resulting in a race that is neither fully human or fully Oankali. Lilith is horrified and makes plans to rebel against the Oankali once they reach Earth.

She is adopted by an Oankali "family" and given some enhancements to make her task of leading a group of human survivors to settle on Earth slightly more successful. She awakens other humans with the mission of making them ready to return to Earth. As is normal with humans, her group is distrustful of her and accuse her of being their jailor. Once they see her enhanced strength and ability to manipulate the ship, their conviction grows and further distances her from the group. Eventually, the other humans rebel against her, choosing to go their own way on Earth. As it happens, the Oankali manipulated their genetic chemistry to not only make them infertile without them but also repellant to the opposite sex. Essentially, they either willingly return to the Oankali or the human race dies out.

I'm summarizing the story of course but I highly encourage anyone to read this story. It's an interesting look at not only our own diversity but how we might react to diversity on a galactic scale.

Bloodchild

This is a story we read in class today written by Octavia Butler. It's a strange little science fiction tale where we find humans living in a parasitic relationship with an alien species. Rather than being presented with a humanoid alien of the sort that we're used to seeing in science fiction, it is a bug-like creature that sounds like a cross between a cockroach and a centipede. A really large bug at that, one who lays its eggs inside its chosen human. The downside for the humans is that if the larvae aren't removed in time, they will devour their host.

Three questions were presented to us upon having read the story.

1) Are there any prominent symbols in the story? If so, what are they and how are they used?

2) What connections did you make with the story? Discuss the elements with which you were able to connect.

3) What changes would you make to adapt this story into another medium? What medium would you use? What changes would you make?

I think it's safe to say that the question wouldn't have been asked if the answer was no. Certainly in light of the fact that there are follow up questions. As to the first question, I think the most obvious symbol is that of the egg. As we are introduced to the characters of the story, they are all sitting around their benefactor eating a sterile egg. The effects of the egg induce a euphoric state that is probably akin to being high. The only one not partaking in the egg is the mother of the human children; at least not initially and not of her own will. Then there is the laying of eggs in the hapless human, Lomas, who is in danger of being eaten alive by the young inside of him and Gan's witness of the "birth." At the end, eggs are implanted into Gan.

I didn't really make any personal connections with the story. If anything, I would say that I could probably connect with Gan's desire to protect his sister from having T'Gatoi lay an egg inside of her. I can also relate to his relationship with his older brother, even though I'm the eldest child. There is still a realistic interpretation on the artist's part in showing us their relationship that calls to mind interactions between my own brothers. Gan also takes responsibility onto himself that protects his mother and the rest of his family.

If I were to change this story into another medium I would choose computer animation, since that would allow me to create the creatures as I see them without any limitations or restrictions. I would change the story so that it was just between T'Gatoi, Gan, and his mother. I think the other siblings get in the way of the story and they don't really add anything that couldn't be substituted by the mother. T'Gatoi could have said she was going to lay her eggs inside his mother which could have elicited the same response in Gan. Also, having the older brother be witness to a birthing gone wrong isn't necessary since Gan sees a birthing gone wrong for himself. It would simplify the story without losing any of its interest. Of course, one could argue that the siblings give some humanity to the main character but I don't know that the same effect couldn't be achieved with the mother.

First Contact Novelette

As a self-proclaimed sci-fi nerd, I dream of the day that mankind meets another traveler upon the ocean of stars. Having grown up with Star Trek, Star Wars, and various other optimistic films that showcase the everyday interactions (usually peaceful) between different species, I like to think that our first contact with an alien species will go relatively smooth. And then I think about mankind and my sense of optimism dwindles. We are largely a species defined by hate, violence, and fear; as much as we'd like to deny it.

It is with this in mind that Murray Leinster wrote First Contact in 1945 at the end of WWII. He imagines a situation where mankind has created the technology that enables him to reach the furthest reaches of space and, while cruising around the Crab Nebula, encounters a race whose technology matches its own. Rather than rush out to meet these new creatures, the captain and crew - on both ships - view this encounter with fear and mistrust. For all the hope and enlightenment that a discovery of this magnitude should represent, both crews worry over the intentions of the other. Their fear makes them consider destroying each other to protect their home worlds. Eventually they do come to an amicable agreement that allows both ships to leave in peace, but it is only through guile that this arrangement is reached.

It's telling that this story resonates so well with me in that I expect mankind to act this way. Our history is full of examples that show that we fear what we don't understand. Our species is often irrational and naive, choosing to see the world the way we want it to be rather than the way it is. Facts and objectivity are replaced with superstition and bias. Mankind is not ready yet for the responsibilities of meeting another species of people, especially if those people behave like us.

The Stone and the Flute and Magical Realism

This week I revisited one of the novels that shaped my early introduction to works of fantasy. It might have even been the first fantasy novel I ever read. It is certainly the first I can recall. It's message left a lasting impression on the young boy I was and I never forgot the story. After reading it again, I find that it's like the words of a song you barely remember, or haven't heard in ages, coming back to you when you hear it again.

One of the things that made this novel stand out to me as a youth was the sense that the world the character, Listener, lived in - was real. There are certainly fantastic elements throughout the book but Hans Bemmann writes it in a way that makes it believable and almost mundane; as though things like this happen all the time. It's a great way to escape the reality of this world and substitute it for another. 

As the main character and protagonist, Listener is flawed. He makes poor choices that, at the time, seem like they are being made for the right reasons. At times, he makes selfish decisions which of course turn out poorly for him. His journey is often about trying to atone for the mistakes he's made as he does usually learn his lesson. The book is full of adventure and at each turn of the page you can't wait to see what happens next. The story covers his entire life and even his eventual death. To me, it encapsulates what magical realism is about by not sugar coating or glossing over the realities of life and by showing us that life is a journey; one that sees us change by running its course - hopefully for the better.

Mr. Potter

For those that have read Harry Potter, it's hard to read Mr. Potter in anything other than Professor Snape's cutting tongue. His tone is instrumental in giving us an alternate observation of our young hero that informs us about the complicated world in which they all live. Nothing is ever purely good or purely evil. It's this revelation, among others, that is one of the many reasons that Harry Potter is beloved by many. However, I feel that for all its fantastic elements, the tale of Harry Potter is a coming of age story.

We first meet Harry Potter as a young boy who is being mistreated and neglected by none other than his aunt and uncle; people who we would otherwise expect to be supportive and loving. It's this relationship that helps us first sympathize with him and wish him a better future. His beginnings are the beginnings of every orphan who dreams that his parents will return and his life will somehow be more. When Hagrid arrives to whisk him away, revealing that Harry is a wizard, his (and our) dreams come true.

If that were where the tale ended, it would simply be in the realm of fantasy - perhaps even something akin to a Grimm's fairytale. But the story continues and the innocence of the beginning gives way to something darker. It shows that life isn't a fairytale and that there are real-life consequences for living it. Granted, we aren't all tormented by the specter of an evil wizard overlord-wannabe, but we all have our demons to face. Ours just don't happen to be literal...most of the time.

This shedding of the light and introduction to darkness, with the message that you have to fight against that which isn't right, is a large part of growing up that most children aren't exposed to. For the most part, we try to protect our children from the nasty things in life until we believe they're old enough to understand it. J.K. Rowling introduced us to a new way of teaching our children about the realities of growing up by introducing us to Harry Potter.

Consider the transformation of Harry throughout the series. When first we meet him, he is a fresh, innocent-looking lad whose excitement outweighs any hesitation. His attitude is naively optimistic and negative thoughts are far from his mind. Yes, there is the weight of being "the boy who lived" on his shoulders, but he's only just learned of this so its impact isn't as great. His interactions with people are generally positive and he is quick to trust.

Contrast this with the Harry we come to know by the end of Deathly Hallows. He is a battle-hardened soldier who has been forced to watch his friends and loved-ones die at the hands of Voldemort. The consequences of being "the boy who lived" have been fully realized and his attitude and optimism have changed. Even the tone of the novel changes at this point with Harry facing hard choices and adult responsibilities. He is no longer the boy we knew at the beginning, his innocence long since shattered. By the end, through his experiences, we all grow up a little. So while the setting is deeply set in the fantastic, it is - overall - a story of innocence lost.

The Hobbit and All Things Heroic

The Hobbit reflects the classic outline of the hero’s journey, albeit in an elaborate and rich environment. Tolkien built his tale on the framework of the classic hero’s journey but it became so much more. The depth he was able to reach was only possible because of the richness of his characters. We truly believed that each was their own person, with their own past and their own personalities. Of course, the main character is the one for whom the book is named for, a hobbit.

Bilbo is content with his life in the Shire and sees little reason to leave. The adventurous nature he had as a youth has all but died. It isn’t until Gandalf arrives with the promise of adventure that the status quo is interrupted. Staying true to the outline of the hero’s journey, Bilbo refuses his quest and prefers to stay at home. It isn’t until the next morning, after the troupe has left, that he realizes he has to go. The rest of the book follows the classic points of the hero’s journey, with each trial and tribulation escalating until the final climactic event. Bilbo learns something about himself and the world around him. When he returns home he realizes, as Gandalf promised him at the onset of their adventure, that he is not the same as he was before.

Of course, Tolkien sets up the proceeding tale of Lord of the Rings by introducing us to the One Ring and the multitude of characters that will be of importance later. It is a tale that had such an impact on the genre of fantasy that it is still relevant today. He introduced us to an immersive world that many find more appealing than the everyday monotony of real life.

Witches

Everyone has a preconceived notion of what a witch is supposed to be. For me, it is the green-faced, wart-riddled, cackling crone riding a broomstick into the night while her monkey henchmen come in to do the dirty work. Their goals are nothing short of your annihilation or abject humiliation and servitude. They use foul, dark magic to achieve their aims – often hunched over a bubbling cauldron stirring their evil into the world. This is an example of the stereotype we’ve created around these characters. Aware of this, Diana Wynn Jones delivers us a new idea of witches while incorporating a different set of stereotypes – that of the societal view on powerful women.

Through Mig – our narrator – we encounter Aunt Maria and her friends. It is through Mig’s emotions that ours are influenced. Her distaste and frustration becomes our own. But we have to ask ourselves about the source of that frustration. Is it that we feel that our characters are being mistreated or is it that it is a strong female character doing the mistreatment? Even those who are in service to Aunt Maria do so mostly in fear, even though they agree with her use of power.

Later we are introduced to the character of Anthony Green who seeks to wrest control from Aunt Maria. All the while, Chris and Mig are caught in the middle of the power play (at one point Chris gets turned into a dog). We see how each side tries to dominate the other, asserting their will to the detriment of the other. It is only when Chris and Mig are able to bring a balance by demonstrating the ability to share power that the town is saved.

Diana Wynn Jones delivers a powerful story with its own morals in the tale of Aunt Maria. We should be mindful of this story when we think about the division of power in our own lives. 

The New Weird

People have long been interested, or at the very least – aware, of the weird. Tales throughout history demonstrate this. It isn’t too hard to understand. After all, a story about the ordinary is hardly a story at all. As time marches ever forward, the things we considered weird have evolved into even weirder things. Consider it an escalation of force perhaps. In order to appease our desire for weirdness we seek out ever weirder subjects. Sometimes, as is the case with Cabin in the Woods, we acknowledge and somewhat parody the tropes that comprise what we consider weird – thus making it something that is slightly weirder, if not a little silly.

It is this introduction of new ideas that brings me to Kraken by China Mieville. We are all familiar with the ideas of cults but Mieville turns it on its head and makes something of a parody of it by making it a cult devoted to what is essentially a giant squid. The weirdness doesn’t stop there as we are witness to other strange things throughout the book. I did find parts of it moved rather slow and took a while to get through but I was able to appreciate what was there. I felt like it fulfilled the concept of new weird by continually raising the ante while delivering us an entertaining story.

With the nature of people being what it is, I wonder what new weird things we will conjure up in the future. We are always looking for that newest thing to entertain us, with older, known things being left behind. This is reflected in our past and will certainly be a major influence in the future. 

Japanese Horror

We spent some time in the realm of Japanese horror for our third week. I read Kwaidan, a collection of short stories and I watched Audition; a film by Takashi Miike. Both media share similarities in the way the tales are constructed, even if they do depart somewhat from each other in terms of endings.

As I was reading Kwaidan it occurred to me how much like campfire ghost stories each tale was. Most of the stories within Kwaidan dealt with the supernatural in terms of vengeful or restless spirits. This is no real surprise considering Japan’s deep spiritual beliefs about nature and the afterlife. A vast majority of Japanese practice the Shinto religion which centers on the connection between the past and present through the appeasement of kami, or gods and spirits. The Japanese also have a deep respect for nature and have designated several spots throughout Japan as places of power. In particular, mountains have always been seen as the realm of the dead and are often considered holy or sacred. I think it’s important to keep these traditions in mind when analyzing Japanese horror as nearly all of its writings, horror or otherwise, have been influenced by its spiritual beliefs.

The Japanese belief in spirits is not just limited to those helpful kami, but also revolves around the Oni. They are depicted as demons, devils, ogres or trolls that seek to destroy or disrupt the individual, especially when that person has done something dishonorable or deserving of punishment. This belief provides a well of material for any Japanese horror writer as the figure of the demon has been present in Japanese art and literature throughout its history.

This style of writing also coincides with the Western tradition of story-telling that often sees the evil-doer getting his or her comeuppance in the end.  It is this similarity that led to me to associate the stories in Kwaidan to our own Western campfire ghost stories. However, I feel that there are still significant differences between the two formats in the way the stories resolve. In a lot of Western folktales, the story ends upon the discovery of the supernatural source, ending the tale very shortly after the climax (i.e. …and they were never seen again). With a lot of the Japanese writings, it felt like the story continued for several more beats after the climax or discovery of the source of the supernatural. This made the story feel stale or slow by comparison and reduced its impact on me. Indeed, a lot of the stories had very slow parts where nothing much happened until suddenly the vengeful spirit appears and is just as quickly gone. Overall, I found the stories to be unrefined and lacking any real strength in terms of their ability to frighten me. I also failed to recognize any obvious moral to most of the stories as it was rarely the main character that had to learn anything. Typically the main character runs across another who had either been cursed or was an Oni in disguise. They either dispatch or aid the other character, depending on their nature. The main character either dies or goes on his way to tell his tale to others. There was so little variation in structure from story to story that reading them in procession was a bit of a task.  I also found that the image of the evil spirit has varied little throughout Japanese history. What scared them hundreds of years ago continues to provide a source of fear today. Note the similarities in the images below.

As for the movie, Audition, I found myself forgetting that I was watching a horror film; so little was the actual horror component. It felt more like a romantic movie until the very end where it turned into a gore-fest that was shocking only in its depiction of violence. I was further distracted by the director’s usage of flashbacks that were not actually flashbacks but some warped reality that the main character was experiencing. It seemed disjointed and took me out of the film rather than pull me in further. Overall, I didn’t find that the main character deserved his fate. I also didn’t feel that there was a moral to the story other than “there are crazy women out there that want to cut your feet off so beware of who you date.”

In summary, I don’t find anything compelling or frightening about Japanese horror and without a convincing reason to try it again I will likely abstain from it in the future.

Interview with a Vampire

Anne Rice takes the legend of the vampire and transforms it for the modern era. Previous iterations saw the vampire as a mindless creature whose only real desire was for blood (or land in the case of Bram Stoker and Nosferatu - sort of the Lex Luthors of the vampire world). No one cared where they came from or what they were in their previous, human lives. The vampire-hunting human was the hero of the story and the story wasn't over until the undead villain was defeated, leaving nothing but a blood-stain or pile of ash on the floor. No tears were shed upon their demise and we relished when the sun rose on a morning without the evil vampire.

This mindset existed until Anne Rice shattered it with Interview with a Vampire. She took the time to introduce us to the vampire, not as a creature but as a character; someone rather than something. They had a past that influenced who they were beyond their lust for blood. However, she couldn’t ignore their sanguinary habits altogether and she didn’t. Instead of making it a gory spectacle that causes the viewer to cover their eyes, she makes it a sensual experience – the height of intimacy between two beings. This combined with a rich, fully fleshed out history changed the archetype of the vampire to what it is today.

What followed is the age of the “heroic” vampire, whose sophistication is not merely a product of guile but is genuine in nature. It is an age where the vampires are the focus of the story and their human tormentors the villains. At the very least, the vampire has become misunderstood and only trying to survive in their new condition. Either way, the days of grabbing pitchforks and torches to extinguish the dreaded blood-sucker are, for all intents and purposes, over.

I think this was absolutely necessary in order for vampire stories to thrive in the modern age. With society’s mindset being ever more open to those that are different, it is no surprise that the vampire also benefits. After all, most of them did not ask to be what they are. Lestat himself was abducted and, having been turned, his maker threw himself into the fire. He had to endure with no real knowledge of himself and no education about his condition. In that context, who are we to judge? 

Another thing that I'd like to point out about the changes brought about by Anne Rice was the introduction of heroic female vampires. While Anne Rice's characters mostly focus around the Brat Prince Lestat, it was her idea that we might not know everything we thought we knew about them that has allowed strong female vampires to exist. Previously, they were limited to being the concubines of Dracula or more like the succubus of lore.While this change is also due to modern sensibilities, I'd argue that these sensibilities are due in part to strong female artists like Anne Rice who made it the norm rather than the exception.

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

 Having seen several versions of Frankenstein on screen I had a rough idea of what to expect in reading the original novel. I couldn't have been more wrong. Nearly every adaptation displays the monster as a mindless brute, bent on wanton, soulless destruction. I was surprised to find that Shelley's creature was thoughtful and articulate, capable of complex ideas and desires. If the creature did act harshly to Frankenstein, it was only in response to the manner in which he had been treated. Indeed, his entire personality was based on his interactions with mankind. That’s not so much of a stretch considering that our personalities are themselves based on our interactions and experiences. Had we been neglected from birth and looked upon with such hatred and disgust, would we have turned out any different?

Shelley constructs a sympathetic monster by showing us his humanity. He only wants to live in peace with someone to share his life. I found that I looked upon Victor Frankenstein as the monster. I found him to be a fickle character who often did not think through his decisions before setting a course towards his goals. He set out to accomplish the creation of life, and having met his goal, immediately regretted it. He took no responsibility for his actions and went about his business as though nothing had happened. Ultimately his disregard for his own creation led to the destruction of everything he held dear. This was likely a commentary from Shelley regarding the progressing sciences of her era and possibly served as a warning to those scientists engaged in questionable experiments.

One of the parts of the book that interested me was the creature’s education through the De Lacey family. This was his glimpse into humanity that wasn’t cruel or tormented. He saw how people could love and care for one another. This developed in him a desire for similar treatment. It’s a statement about the nature of humanity that the only person who ever received him with kindness was blind. Everyone else he encountered reacted negatively to his disfigurement causing him to distrust and hate mankind. I question (as did the creature) why Victor would create such a horrid creature in the first place. Certainly he had to have known that mankind would reject it based on appearance alone. After all, he fled in terror and he was its creator.

One criticism I have for the novel is that none of the male characters felt genuinely male. I realize Shelley was only 19 at the time she wrote it, so she likely imagined that men had the same thoughts as a teenaged girl. Another problem I had was with the story structure. I did not feel that any particular character had their own “voice.” I realize this might be a result of the narrative device of relating a story through the character of Mr. Walton. I felt that her choice to tell the story through a letter/journal recorded by a separate character as recollected by a different character was a missed opportunity. It places the reader in a disassociated position and takes them out of the action. Having no experience with Victorian age literature, I do not know if this was common for the time or simply a result of inexperience (she was only 19 after all).

Overall, I think the story has great potential and speaks to the thoughtlessness of man towards his fellow being. It is also a cautionary tale that prevails to this day. How many things can we do but shouldn’t for fear of the consequences? I think this is the true staying power of her idea and why the name of Frankenstein so readily known by so many.