Frankenstein Archives

Yzabel / February 2, 2019

Review: The Monsters We Deserve

The Monsters We Deserve by Marcus Sedgwick

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

‘Do monsters always stay in the book where they were born? Are they content to live out their lives on paper, and never step foot into the real world?’

The Villa Diodati, on the shore of Lake Geneva, 1816: the Year without Summer. As Byron, Polidori, and Mr and Mrs Shelley shelter from the unexpected weather, old ghost stories are read and new ghost stories imagined. Born by the twin brains of the Shelleys is Frankenstein, one of the most influential tales of horror of all time.

In a remote mountain house, high in the French Alps, an author broods on Shelley’s creation. Reality and perception merge, fuelled by poisoned thoughts. Humankind makes monsters; but who really creates who? This is a book about reason, the imagination, and the creative act of reading and writing. Marcus Sedgwick’s ghostly, menacing novel celebrates the legacy of Mary Shelley’s literary debut in its bicentenary year.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

This book is somewhat of an oddball: part essay, part horror story, part reflection about the writer’s craft and what bringing a story into the world involves.

The book the author-protagonist talks about is Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”, but it’s also his own, his best-seller book, and the one about which he harbours the most doubts. It’s about disliking a story so much that you can’t help think about it; about the meaning of one’s writing, and how it completely escapes us from the moment it’s out in the world; about searching one’s soul and having to come to terms with our truths. Not an easy read, though it’s fairly short, and I admit I wasn’t entirely sold on it at first, but then it grew on me.

It’s also about monsters, of course, but not necessarily the kind we think at first.

Not my favourite book by Marcus Sedgwick, though, as parts of it are rather confusing and left me with a somewhat “off” feeling that I couldn’t place. Not to mention that if you’ve studied “Frankenstein” at least a little, most of the reflections outlined in it, as well as the “big reveal”, are kind of… super obvious?

2.5 stars. Interesting as a curiosity, I’d say.

Yzabel / January 5, 2016

Review: This Monstrous Thing

This Monstrous Thing by Mackenzi Lee

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

In 1818 Geneva, men built with clockwork parts live hidden away from society, cared for only by illegal mechanics called Shadow Boys. Two years ago, Shadow Boy Alasdair Finch’s life shattered to bits.

His brother, Oliver—dead.

His sweetheart, Mary—gone.

His chance to break free of Geneva—lost.

Heart-broken and desperate, Alasdair does the unthinkable: He brings Oliver back from the dead.

But putting back together a broken life is more difficult than mending bones and adding clockwork pieces. Oliver returns more monster than man, and Alasdair’s horror further damages the already troubled relationship.

Then comes the publication of Frankenstein and the city intensifies its search for Shadow Boys, aiming to discover the real life doctor and his monster. Alasdair finds refuge with his idol, the brilliant Dr. Geisler, who may offer him a way to escape the dangerous present and his guilt-ridden past, but at a horrible price only Oliver can pay…

Review:

[I received a copy of this novel through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.]

Sort of a retelling of the “Frankenstein” story, based on the idea of “what if the latter had been inspired by real-life events”. In a world where clockwork (allowing to replace missing limbs in people, among other things) is considered in some places, due to its proponents’ reputation of not being fully human, Alasdair Finch and his family have been on the run for years, ending in Geneva where they secretly practice their craft as “Shadow Boys”. Since the elder brother, Oliver, died two years ago, though, nothing has been the same. It is, obviously, no spoiler to say that Alasdair brought him back through clockwork, and now has to deal with a different Oliver, back from the dead… and no brother quite know what to do with himself or each other anymore.

The characters themselves were interesting enough, with merits and flaws, doubts and questions regarding what they had done, what they should do… Oliver: convinced he was a monster, and having to learn who he was through Alasdair, since he first had no memory of his previous life. Alasdair, torn between his loyalty towards his brother and family and his desire to study with their former mentor, Dr. Geisler. Clémence, so hardened and savvy in many ways, yet also unsure of what her place in the world was. Mary, conflicted about the choices she made and the façade she presented to the world. Even some minor characters, whose own perception of clockwork isn’t always what you’d think.

I regretted however not seeing more of their inner questioning: we get a lot from Alasdair, since he’s the first person narrator, but the others seemed to have such torment to contend with, and it was “only” seen through Ally’s eyes, therefore tinged by his own view of the world. It mirrored the original work by Shelley, but didn’t have the same impact on me. Perhaps a third person narration, with a couple of other points of view, may have worked well here, if only to also let the reader witness other happenings—the plot remained slow in terms of events/action, yet not as devoted as it could have been to fully develop the whole philosophy and conundrums behind the Shadow Boys, clockwork, people having undergone such surgery after having lost a foot or an arm, the Frankenstein society, Mary Shelley’s actions and her somewhat questionable reasons… And although the ending was left open, it was also a little flat compared to what had been at stake.

I still deem this book pleasant to read, for the atmosphere it evoked and the themes it dealt with. I only wish it would’ve delved deeper into its, all in all, fascinating ideas.

Yzabel / September 8, 2014

Review: Flesh Failure

Flesh Failure by Sèphera Girón

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

London, 1888: Agatha drags herself from a shallow grave to roam the fog-shrouded streets of the dark city, trying to piece together what happened. Her new friends, the ladies of the night, live in terror of Jack the Ripper, while Agatha persistently searches for what she discovers she needs to stay alive: electrical charges.

As her memory grows stronger, the hazy images from her past come into focus, but questions remain. Do her answers lie in the shadows of the streets, the hidden corridors of London Hospital, or someplace far more frightening?

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

An enjoyable take on the theme of animating the dead, woven with bits of historical events such as the Ripper’s murders. Agatha wakes up buried in the woods, and has to claw her way out of the earth. Only helped by brief flashes of memory, she goes on her own quest to find out what happened to her, why she recalls herself as different-looking, and who created her.

I’m going to confess to a total lack of impartiality here: I love stories on the theme of reanimated humans, creatures who start out as “monstrous” and have to find their way in the world, for all the questions they raise about our own humanity. This short novel may not have been perfect, but it still made me think about that no matter what. In spite of Agatha’s smell and scars, there were people who natueally came to help, fed her, gave her clothes, let her sleep in their home. They weren’t perfect people either, they had their flaws, they may end up rejecting her after a while, but the fact remains: there’s still goodness in human beings.

The novel deals with a certain kind of symbolism, too. Seven days for Agatha’s “rebirth”. Electricity as a conductor for life, but also as a means of destruction, just like fire can keep you warm, yet burn you to a crisp if you get too close. Though not exceptional, such symbols still remained interesting.

A few things didn’t sit too well with me. First, some editing blips (a character’s name is known before she’s properly introduced) and redundant mistakes (“then” instead of “than”) that became annoying after a while, and were likely not typos. There were also a couple of happenings that I can’t make up my mind about, because they’re a bit too close to Shelley’s story. The encounter with the blind man was one of those. I honestly don’t know if I liked this or not, if it was typical retelling homage or closer to a copy of the original scene. Then there was Agatha’s behaviour: I thought she could have questioned it more, especially when it came to her cravings for blood and how she responded to them. (If looking at Shelley’s story—and there’s no way a reader can’t see the parallels here, they’re totally on purpose—the “monster” started quite innocent, his gradual descent due to his trials. Agatha, on the other hand, seemed to start as a monster already, and maybe she was a little too inhuman, so there wasn’t that much character progress to have. That’d be my major complaint, and why I’m not rating it higher.)

The ending felt too abrupt, as if the story suddenly had to be wrapped up right now. However, it fits with what happens in the last paragraphs, so even though I would’ve liked to read more, writing it that way was actually logical.

Readers who aren’t so keen as I am about this kind of story may not find it more than “OK”, but in my case, it still struck a chord, and after the first slow pages, I got into it fairly easily.

Yzabel / June 30, 2013

Review: This Dark Endeavour

This Dark Endeavour by Kenneth Oppel

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In this prequel to Mary Shelley’s gothic classic, Frankenstein, 16-year-old Victor Frankenstein begins a dark journey that will change his life forever. Victor’s twin, Konrad, has fallen ill, and no doctor is able to cure him. Unwilling to give up on his brother, Victor enlists his beautiful cousin Elizabeth and best friend Henry on a treacherous search for the ingredients to create the forbidden Elixir of Life. Impossible odds, dangerous alchemy and a bitter love triangle threaten their quest at every turn.

Victor knows he must not fail. But his success depends on how far he is willing to push the boundaries of nature, science, and love—and how much he is willing to sacrifice.

Review:

2.5 stars. I’d deem this story “okay”. It wasn’t bad, but I expected more of it, and it didn’t leave me with a sense of completion, although I wish it had. There are lots of good ideas in this book, that didn’t work for me, the way they were exploited, and it’s really too bad.

Lots of potential, indeed. For instance, the beginning that hints at a darker side in the two brothers’ relationships. Or the love triangle that could’ve become something really interesting, something that could have seriously thwarted Victor’s motivations. Unfortunately, I think the author didn’t go deep enough with those—perhaps because really going through with them to the end would’ve been too dark for a YA audience? I don’t know. Things felt a little weird in that regard, as if in style and themes, the book was aiming at the older part of the intended audience, yet didn’t dare to go there in the end, and remained a little too “light”, for the sake of the younger ones.

The love triangle also fell flat in general, in my opinion, and more childish than the dark and tragic affair it could’ve been (or than what I expected from the blurb on the back cover). Victor’s love would’ve had more impact for me if it had been there from the beginning, and not apparently triggered at the moment he learnt Konrad loved the girl too. Elizabeth was a character I enjoyed, showing a lot of pluck and decision-making. This may be the reason why I also disliked the way Konrad treated her, as if he was only looking at her, and not “seeing” her for who she was. In itself, this could’ve added to the tragedy of that relationship, but felt a little wobbly instead. This said, to be fair, I’m not too attracted by love triangles in general, so I’m pretty picky about those anyway.

Finally, I would’ve liked the ending to be just a tad less abrupt. It was a necessary ending—it couldn’t have been otherwise—but it came a little too quickly. I guess I would’ve liked some kind of explanation, even a non-scientific one, as to how exactly the tables turned so fast.

What I appreciated, though, was how “This Dark Endeavour” paved the way for Shelley’s story, and could likely bring more people to read that one—which really deserves to be read no matter what. Maybe this is the reason why I couldn’t be so enthralled with the book: because I already know the original masterpiece, and because for me, the stories don’t play on the same level. Nevertheless, this novel could be a good introduction to its predecessor for younger readers.