Frankenstein is a gothic and horror novel written by Mary Shelley.
Mary Shelley was William Goldwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, one of the first modern anarchist and feminist, daughter. However her mother could not influence her since she died when Mary is 11 days old. Her father Goldwin provided her a rich education and well educated society.
Shelley started writing the story when she was 18 for the competation between Mary, Percy Shelley (future husband), Lord Byron (leading Poet in the Romantic Movement), and John Polidori (creator of vampyre genre. First vampyre story narrator.). They decided to compete for writing the best horror story and as a result Mary finished her story which turned in to novel, two years after. It was very efficient competation that produced two universal characters. (Vampire – Frankenstein)
As usually known Frankenstein is not the name of monster, it is surname of monster's creator Victor Frankenstein. However in 1927 english playwriter Peggy Webling gave Frankenstein name to monster in the adapted theatre play which would be the scenerio of 1931's famous classical Frankenstein film.
Frankenstein is a horror novel but it was beyond its age with its quetioning structure. It is about relationship between creator and it's creature. It is also called Modern Prometheus. Victor gave life to a monster and then he had been cursed like Prometheus who were cursed by Zeus and had been fixed to the top of mountain where each day an eagle would peck out his liver.
It was one of the most influential character ever written. Although it is known as Frankenstein is build from corpse's body parts, it is not mentioned in original novel, Victor do not say anything about his discovery, secret of life, in order to prevent further remake possibilities.
Victor Frankenstein is a creator who do not like his creature even can not look into his eyes.
“IT WAS ON a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. 1 Beautiful!—Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. “
And monster has an original sin and he is sacked like Adam. However his answer is;
“ Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master; —obey!”
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