The origin of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is as famous a story as the novel itself. In 1816, young Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin and her paramour, poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (then married to another woman) were vacationing with Lord Byron and their mutual friend John Polidori at a villa near Geneva, Switzerland. The weather had been dreadful during their visit – this was the “Year without a Summer” – and guests and host alike were obliged to spend much of their time indoors. After an evening spent reading ghost stories, Lord Byron suggested that they each write a macabre tale of their own. Later that night, Mary had a terrible nightmare that inspired her to write the short story that would become Frankenstein. (Incidentally, Mary wasn’t the only person at the villa to make a lasting contribution to horror literature: John Polidori’s story, The Vampyre, was the first vampire story in print, and remains so to this day.)
While Frankenstein would go on to become a cultural phenomenon, its journey to print was not a smooth one. Her manuscript, finished a year later, was initially rejected by both Byron’s and Shelley’s publishers. In 1918, a small publishing house took a chance on Frankenstein, issuing a three volume edition of only 500 copies. Shelley’s name – she was Mary Shelley by then – didn’t appear anywhere on the novel, attributed to “anonymous”. A second edition – this one in two volumes – didn’t appear for another five years, prompted by the popularity of a play based on the novel. It wasn’t until Halloween, 1831, that the one-volume edition that most readers are familiar with first appeared. However, many readers may not be aware that this edition contained a number of revisions made by Shelley in order to appeal to a popular audience. You can read about some of them here.
Frankenstein was, and remains, a significant work of speculative fiction. More than just a spooky story, Shelley’s novel is rife with allusion, both literary (the Creature’s relationship with its creator closely resembles Satan relationship to God in Milton’s Paradise Lost), and mythological (the book’s subtitle, The Modern Prometheus, likens Dr. Victor Frankenstein to the mythic bringer of fire to mankind). Of course, nothing could have been expected of Mary Shelley, the daughter of a prominent philosopher and a feminist, raised to be an intelligent and educated woman. Despite a lack of critical support for her novel, Frankenstein found a home with everyday readers who appreciated its macabre atmosphere and the plight of the strangely sympathetic “monster”. The Creature, you see, is nothing like his popular depiction in movies. He’s a tortured and ultimately vengeful soul, an outsider in a world that will never accept him. He’s cultured, intelligent and sensitive, and this makes his ostracism even more pitiable.
Sadly, Shelley’s life was to be as tragic as that of her Creature. Her husband died young in a boating accident. Two of her three children died at birth. Shelley herself would die of a brain tumor in 1851. Her life was all too short, but Frankenstein continues to live on to this day, both as a great work of literature in its own right and as a source of numerous spin-off novels, television programs, comics, games and movies. As of this writing, there are currently half a dozen Frankenstein films in pre-production, including one based on a play by 28 Days Later director Danny Boyle.
Random House recently reissued Frankenstein, and if you’re unfamiliar with this horror classic, now is as good a time as any to reach out and shake the Creature’s cold, misshapen hand. Just don’t be surprised if the old beast still has a hell of a grip.
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