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Book Review: Mary’s Monster: Love, Madness, and How Mary Shelley Created Frankenstein by Lita Judge

Mary’s Monster: Love, Madness, and How Mary Shelley Created Frankenstein by Lita Judge

Roaring Brook Press, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-1626725003

Available: Hardcover, Kindle edition

 

After the flood of books about Frankenstein and Mary Shelley that accompanied the bicentennial of the first publication of the book last year,  despite my fascination with both, I was pretty exhausted from reading about them by the time 2019 rolled around, but Mary’s Monster is something special. This verse biography of Mary Shelley’s life is framed by imagined commentary from the Creature itself. While in a text-only format this might not have worked, nearly every page is also a visual feast, pairing Lita Judge’s free verse with incredible black-and-white watercolor illustrations, for nearly 300 pages. The powerful illustrations integrated into the text reminded me at times of A Monster Calls, but that is a fictional prose novel, while this is nonfiction– a detailed verse biography. Judge structured the book into nine parts, to represent the nine months it took Mary to finish writing Frankenstein, and also the same length as a pregnancy. Mary’s thoughts about creation, love, abandonment, despair, and destruction were central to her identity, and she certainly dealt with all of these issues in her own life, from the death of her mother in giving birth and difficult childhood, to her intense relationship with Percy Shelley and her own pregnancy.

In introducing her, the Creature presents her as a complex character, outspoken and imaginative, and commands us to “hear her voice”. Indeed, even though they are not necessarily all direct quotes, the poems in the book are all told from Mary’s point of view, and Judge has pages of notes at the end identifying where she found individual lines. We hear Mary’s voice as shaped by Judge’s perceptions, choices, and words. Through Part 7, we get a relatively straightforward narrative of Mary’s life from childhood through the summer at the Villa Diodati, during which she started writing Frankenstein.  Part 8 starts with the suicides of her half-sister Fanny and Shelley’s wife Harriet and expresses her intense grief over their deaths and the early death of her first daughter in a nightmarish, Goya-esque collage of her internal turmoil, the responses of the very tangible Creature she creates, and the way the two of them are twisted together: he claiming “I am your creature,” and her return revelation, “My creature is me!”

This is not a light read. Mary Shelley’s life was intense, passionate, and difficult, and while Judge doesn’t go into the details, she doesn’t shy away from writing about sexual relationships, suicide, children dying, drug use, and bad reputation (as opposed to a recent children’s book that described Mary visiting the Villa Diodati with “her dear friend Percy Shelley”).  Judge omits any mention of Mary’s wedding to Shelley after Harriet’s suicide, which is, to me, a confusing thing to leave out, although I will grant that it wouldn’t have contributed well to the flow of Part 8, which is focused on Mary’s anger and grief (Judge explains her reasoning in an author’s note). In addition to an author’s note and the notes on the poems, Judge also provides additional information about Mary Shelley and Frankenstein following the book’s initial publication; thumbnail descriptions of the lives of major characters and family members, such as William Godwin, Mary Wollstonecraft, Percy Shelley, and Lord Byron; a list of books that Mary had read, according to her journal; and a bibilography. It’s not everything you want to know about Mary Shelley, but it’s a great place to start. Mary’s Monster is a breathtaking look at Mary Shelley’s younger years (Part 9 ends in 1823, and she lived until 1851), and, although it is targeted at YA audiences, I highly recommend it as a unique title that does an outstanding job of melding poetry, biography, art, and literary criticism into a powerful, magnetic, visually compelling, and well-researched story.

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

Book Review: Making the Monster: The Science Behind Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein by Kathryn Harkup

Making the Monster: The Science Behind Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein by Kathryn Harkup

Bloomsbury Sigma, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-1472933737

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, MP3 CD

 

 

The primary takeaway I got from Making the Monster: The Science Behind Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is that Frankenstein really truly is science fiction. There are things implied in the book that science today still isn’t able to accomplish! I think in today’s world we don’t really have the ability to imagine the time that Mary Shelley was writing, when the way people saw the world was in flux, with alchemy only very reluctantly ceding its way to the barely understood beginnings of chemistry, biology, and physical science, and the materials for experimentation not easily available. The potential of science to change what makes us human, as exciting and mysterious as it was, also activated anxieties and fears that, while they have changed in specifics, still affect us today. The mystery of what science could accomplish, though, was so profound at that time that Shelley’s novel of an ambitious, obsessive scientist has so little actual science in it, and so little of the text actually devoted to creating the monster itself.

Harkup breaks her topic down by first summing up the life of Mary Shelley to the point at which she wrote Frankenstein, and then, about 80 pages in, addressing the specific aspects of science and experimentation described in the text. She does a good job of recreating the gruesome aspects of science at that time, and the enthusiasm scientists had that sent them past the point of what we would consider ethically acceptable. She covers some fascinating people and ideas, such as anatomist John Hunter (evidently the model for both Dr. Doolittle and Dr Jekyll); foundational chemist Antoine Lavoisier; serial killers William Burke and William Hare, who sold the bodies of their victims to anatomy schools; and Luigi Galvani and Alessandro Volta, the major players in the debate on the role of electricity in animal and human bodies, among others. Bodysnatching, graverobbing, transplants, preserving body parts in jars, the creation of batteries, chimeras, body decomposition, electroshock therapy, acromegaly, transfusions, feral men, Lamarck’s theory of genetics, all are covered in the pages as the flotsam surrounding educated (and not as educated) people at the time, often simultaneously as entertainment and education.

Making the Monster is interesting, even compelling at times, but there were some stretches that took me a long time to get through. I got impatient when Harkup moved too far into the past or too close to the current day, and much of what she said about where Shelley got her ideas was farfetched supposition. That is, not that Mary couldn’t have encountered these ideas and people, but that she might have encountered (for example) John Hunter’s ideas because of a one-time encounter between Hunter and her father. Despite it running only 274 pages, I ended up picking it up and putting it down several times.

As it’s the 200th anniversary of the novel, this is a good addition to a Frankensteinia collection, and some of the stories about the science of the times make for interesting reading if you are interested in the history of science in the 1800s. Making the Monster is a mostly enjoyable read, but outside of the specific applications of science that tie into the novel, it treads some pretty familiar ground, so it’s not an essential item for most collections.  Recommended for large public library collections and Frankenstein lovers.

 

 

Musings: Writing From The Heart: Strange Star by Emma Carroll and Out of the Wild Blue by Blue Balliett

Strange Star by Emma Carroll

Delacorte Books for Young Readers, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-0399556050

Available: Hardcover, Kindle edition

 

In a recent interview, R.L. Stine expressed his frustration with the writing advice “write from your heart.” To paraphrase, he said “I don’t write from the heart. I write to entertain.”

You may argue that Stine writes formula fiction, which can be predictable, and that it’s shallow to write only to entertain. Only you can make that decision, but know that just because you are writing out of love, that doesn’t mean your writing will be loved, or even understood, by the audience you are trying to reach. I’m writing about children’s books here because that’s what I love and where I’ve recently seen examples of this, but if you’re writing for any audience, this still applies. In general, people who read to escape are looking for a good story, one that flows. They don’t want to have to work for their chills and thrills. I think that’s particularly true for children and teens.

I’ve come across two books this month that illustrate this perfectly. The first one, which I recently reviewed here, Out of the Wild Blue, by the outstanding children’s author Blue Balliett, was a tribute to Nantucket and its ghosts. It is clever and literary, and the worst book she’s ever written. I read it because I was asked to by another school media specialist who couldn’t get through the first 20 pages. Both of us are baffled at the amazing reviews this book has gotten from other librarians and reviewers. Heavy on atmosphere, this book shorted us on character development and plot. It was WORK for me to get through it, and what kid wants to have to work for the creepiness and chills you expect in a ghost story? I mean, the story is practically a love letter, but it’s not successful as an accessible ghost story for children. Or, for that matter, for at least two other adults with expertise in children’s literature.

The second, Strange Star, by Emma Carroll, has a lot of originality, although it’s not necessarily successful at getting the reader to fully suspend disbelief, and some of the pieces don’t connect as smoothly as they could. Strange Star centers on the events of the “haunted summer” during which Mary Shelley first conceived of Frankenstein. The first point of view character, is Felix, a free black servant boy working for Lord Byron at the Villa Diodati, whose goal is to convince Byron to take him back to England as a footman. His story is told in third person. We get Felix’s impressions of Byron, the Shelleys, and their friends, and some pretty detailed information on them is communicated through him. Felix isn’t only used as a way to communicate information, though. He is a character with agency and his own motivations. The second point of view character, Lizzie, an English village girl who was struck by lightning, blinded, and kidnapped by a scientist obsessed with using electricity to resurrect the dead, speaks in her own voice. Her experience of the same group of people that Felix admires is a terrifying one.

The author named many of the fictional characters in the book after characters in Frankenstein as well, even naming the scientist Francesca Stine. She managed to include historical figures like William Godwin, Mary’s father (a relatively minor part of her life after she ran away with Shelley) as a character, whose motivations and actions help move the story toward its conclusion. The messages of and ideas behind the creation of Frankenstein come through clearly in the book—clearly Carroll did her research and used it creatively.

As someone who’s read Frankenstein and also read a lot about Mary Shelley, I found this to be really well done and clever. It is vivid, not just in its descriptions and setting (the title is Strange Star for a reason), but in its portrayal of terrible emotions, particularly grief. Carroll also did a nice job of seamlessly integrating diversity into her characters. But I am not the audience. This is a book written for middle-schoolers, most of whom will not yet have read Frankenstein or heard of Mary Shelley. They won’t even yet have encountered the work of Percy Shelley or Lord Byron. They will miss most of the references and won’t be able to connect the dots when things are implied rather than stated outright (okay, maybe you don’t want them to figure out that Claire Clairmont has a thing going on with Byron). You would have to love Frankenstein and be fascinated with the life of Mary Shelley to write this book, but so much of it will be above the heads of the readers it is targeted for!

I’m sure there are more readers for this than for Balliett’s book, because Carroll handles plot and character development much more effectively—parts of the book are disturbing and even terrifying—but while Strange Star is definitely one to remember, and certainly one I’d recommend to fans of Mary Shelley, it’s more the book that Carroll wanted to write than the one her target audience will appreciate.

As an adult choosing or reviewing a children’s book for a child or teen, it can be easy to forget that we can’t read these books as if they’re written for us when making recommendations. And as an adult choosing to write a book for a child or teen, or really anyone looking to read for pleasure, it’s important to recognize that, if you want to reach readers, writing from your heart is not enough.