When I first heard we would be reading Frankenstein as one of our studies, I was honestly excited. I thought it would be interesting. I mean, we’ve all heard the shortened and watered down version of it at some point, but now I could read the full version of it.
I got distracted by Streetcar before I could read Frankenstein. After finishing Streetcar my hopes were raised that this one would be even better.
Oh, was I ever so wrong.
As I went to read the first page I was greeted by an armada of pretentious-looking introductions and prefaces written by the author herself and other authors. The book better be blow-your-socks-off good if some author had felt the need to write a preface for a book that wasn’t their own.
The first chapter entirely consisted of a bunch of letters some guy was writing to his sister. I sort of skimmed over them, praying they wouldn’t be crucial to the plot later. They mentioned something about a dying man, Greenland, and lots of ice.
Then came the actual book, and oh Lord, was it ever boring.
You know that feeling you get when you read, where it sort of goes in one ear and out the other? That’s the feeling I got reading this entire book. Maybe it was because it was almost midnight and I was trying to cram-read this the night before we were supposed to finish it. Although even when I tried to read it fully conscious and functioning, I couldn’t draw anything from it. Why did Siddarth like it so much? He’d spent at least a full minute jabbering about how he’d been “unable to put it down” and how it was so good.
(He’s probably going to kill me if he reads this)
Maybe it’s because I’m young and I don’t understand the “deeper meaning” in it or whatever. But the fact still remains to me that I hated this book. No matter how many times I forced myself to go over the book, I couldn’t find anything about the plotline engaging, and I couldn’t emotionally invest in any of the characters. In the end, I had to read the SparkNotes summary of the plot to actually get some kind of grasp on the plotline.
Perhaps one day I’ll be able to appreciate this book as much as Hunniset does. But for now I’m still struggling to see the deeper meaning behind it.