Saturday, August 28, 2010

Book #31: Frankenstein

I don't have excuses any longer. All I can tell you, dear internet of love and kindness, is that I am enamored of you. Would it help if I batted my eyelashes coquettishly?*

Frankenstein was required summer reading. I had to force myself through it; while the writing was often pretty, I couldn't get into it. It was engrossing in places but failed to capture me. Frankly, I found it rather boring. It went on and on without much action. In some ways this is preferable, as I would rather little action than constant turmoil, but in others it drove me up the wall. At one point it was all a bit "story... within a story... within a story... within a story.... what?!" But there you are. Required reading has never sat well with me in the first place.

To stop myself from killing something due to billions of pages still to go, I read this on my phone. Thus, while I have fantastical magical quotes for you, I am without page numbers. I will number them instead.


You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. (1)

. . . their angelic countenances breathed smiles of consolation. (2)

Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity. Rely, therefore, on your hopes; and if these friends are good and amiable, do not despair. (3)

Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone? (4)

I fell at last in a state of utter exhaustion; a film covered my eyes, and my skin was parched with the heat of fever. (5)


*Yes, I just wanted to use the word "coquettishly." That was pretty much the object there.