Enjoy fast, free delivery, exclusive deals, and award-winning movies & TV shows with Prime
Try Prime
and start saving today with fast, free delivery
Amazon Prime includes:
Fast, FREE Delivery is available to Prime members. To join, select "Try Amazon Prime and start saving today with Fast, FREE Delivery" below the Add to Cart button.
Amazon Prime members enjoy:- Cardmembers earn 5% Back at Amazon.com with a Prime Credit Card.
- Unlimited Free Two-Day Delivery
- Streaming of thousands of movies and TV shows with limited ads on Prime Video.
- A Kindle book to borrow for free each month - with no due dates
- Listen to over 2 million songs and hundreds of playlists
- Unlimited photo storage with anywhere access
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, your membership will automatically upgrade to a monthly membership.
-20% $7.99$7.99
Ships from: Amazon.com Sold by: Amazon.com
$6.64$6.64
Ships from: Amazon Sold by: Martistore
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
Audible sample Sample
Frankenstein: Or the Modern Prometheus (Penguin Classics) Paperback – January 1, 2003
Purchase options and add-ons
Mary Shelley's timeless gothic novel presents the epic battle between man and monster at its greatest literary pitch. In trying to create life, the young student Victor Frankenstein unleashes forces beyond his control, setting into motion a long and tragic chain of events that brings Victor to the very brink of madness. How he tries to destroy his creation, as it destroys everything Victor loves, is a powerful story of love, friendship, scientific hubris, and horror. Based on the third edition of 1831, this Penguin Classics edition, with an introduction and notes by Maurice Hindle, contains all the revisions Mary Shelley made to her story, as well as her 1831 introduction and Percy Bysshe Shelley’s preface to the first edition. It also includes as appendices a select collation of the texts of 1818 and 1831 together with "A Fragment" by Lord Byron and Dr John Polidori’s "The Vampyre: A Tale."
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
- Print length352 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- Lexile measure1170L
- Dimensions7.76 x 5.08 x 0.83 inches
- PublisherPenguin Classics
- Publication dateJanuary 1, 2003
- ISBN-100141439475
- ISBN-13978-0141439471
The Amazon Book Review
Book recommendations, author interviews, editors' picks, and more. Read it now
Frequently bought together
More items to explore
Editorial Reviews
Review
This Modern Library edition includes a new Introduction by Wendy Steiner, the chair of the English department at the University of Pennsylvania and author of The Scandal of Pleasure.
Mary Shelley was born Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin in 1797 in London. She eloped to France with Shelley, whom she married in 1816. After Frankenstein, she wrote several novels, including Valperga and Falkner, and edited editions of the poetry of Shelley, who had died in 1822. Mary Shelley died in London in 1851.
About the Author
Maurice Hindle studied at the universities of Keele, Durham and Essex, gaining a Ph.D. in Literature from Essex in 1989. He currently teaches at the Open University.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
I am by birth a Genevese; and my family is one of the most distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counsellors and syndics; and my father had filled several public situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family.
As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a merchant, who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a proud and unbending disposition, and could not bear to live in poverty and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship, and was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in endeavouring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world again through his credit and assistance.
Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself; and it was ten months before my father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this discovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a mean street, near the Reuss. But when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed him. Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of his fortunes; but it was sufficient to provide him with sustenance for some months, and in the meantime he hoped to procure some respectable employment in a merchant's house. The interval was, consequently, spent in inaction; his grief only became more deep and rankling when he had leisure for reflection; and at length it took so fast hold of his mind that at the end of three months he lay on a bed of sickness, incapable of any exertion.
His daughter attended him with the greatest tenderness; but she saw with despair that their little fund was rapidly decreasing, and that there was no other prospect of support. But Caroline Beaufort possessed a mind of an uncommon mould; and her courage rose to support her in her adversity. She procured plain work; she plaited straw; and by various means contrived to earn a pittance scarcely sufficient to support life.
Several months passed in this manner. Her father grew worse; her time was more entirely occupied in attending him; her means of subsistence decreased; and in the tenth month her father died in her arms, leaving her an orphan and a beggar. This last blow overcame her; and she knelt by Beaufort's coffin, weeping bitterly, when my father entered the chamber. He came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl, who committed herself to his care; and after the interment of his friend, he conducted her to Geneva, and placed her under the protection of a relation. Two years after this event Caroline became his wife.
There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, but this circumstance seemed to unite them only closer in bonds of devoted affection. There was a sense of justice in my father's upright mind, which rendered it necessary that he should approve highly to love strongly. Perhaps during former years he had suffered from the late discovered unworthiness of one beloved, and so was disposed to set a greater value on tried worth. There was a show of gratitude and worship in his attachment to my mother, differing wholly from the doating fondness of age, for it was inspired by reverence for her virtues, and a desire to be the means of, in some degree, recompensing her for the sorrows she had endured, but which gave inexpressible grace to his behaviour to her. Everything was made to yield to her wishes and her convenience. He strove to shelter her, as a fair exotic is sheltered by the gardener, from every rougher wind, and to surround her with all that could tend to excite pleasurable emotion in her soft and benevolent mind. Her health, and even the tranquillity of her hitherto constant spirit, had been shaken by what she had gone through. During the two years that had elapsed previous to their marriage my father had gradually relinquished all his public functions; and immediately after their union they sought the pleasant climate of italy, and the change of scene and interest attendant on a tour through that land of wonders, as a restorative for her weakened frame.
From Italy they visted Germany and France. I, their eldest child, was born in Naples, and as an infant accompanied them in their rambles. I remained for several years their only child. Much as they were attached to each other, they seemed to draw inexhaustible stores of affection from a very mine of love to bestow them upon me. My mother's tender caresses, and my father's smile of benevolent pleasure while regarding me, are my first recollections. I was their plaything and their idol, and something better—their child, the innocent and helpless creature bestowed on them by Heaven, whom to bring up to good, and whose future lot it was in their hands to direct to happiness or misery, according as they fulfilled their duties towards me. With this deep consciousness of what they owed towards the being to which they had given life, added to the active spirit of tenderness that animated both, it may be imagined that while during every hour of my infant life I received a lesson of patience, of charity, and of self control, I was so guided by a silken cord that all seemed but one train of enjoyment to me.
For a long time I was their only care. My mother had much desired to have a daughter, but I continued their single offspring. When I was about five years old, while making an excursion beyond the frontiers of Italy, they passed a week on the shores of the Lake of Como. Their benevolent disposition often made them enter the cottages of the poor. This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a necessity, a passion—remembering what she had suffered, and how she had been relieved—for her to act in her turn the guardian angel to the afflicted. During one of their walks a poor cot in the foldings of a vale attracted their notice as being singularly disconsolate, while the number of half-clothed children gathered about it spoke of penury in its worst shape. One day, when my father had gone by himself to Milan, my mother, accompanied by me, visited this abode. She found a peasant and his wife, hard working, bent down by care and labour, distributing a scanty meal to five hungry babes. Among these there was one which attracted my mother far above all the rest. She appeared of a different stock. The four others were dark eyed, hardy little vagrants; this child was thin, and very fair. Her hair was the brightest living gold, and, despite the poverty of her clothing, seemed to set a crown of distinction on her head. Her brow was clear and ample, her blue eyes cloudless, and her lips and the moulding of her face so expressive of sensibility and sweetness, that none could behold her without looking on her as of a distinct species, a being heaven-sent, and bearing a celestial stamp in all her features.
The peasant woman, perceiving that my mother fixed eyes of wonder and admiration on this lovely girl, eagerly communicated her history. She was not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her mother was a German, and had died on giving her birth. The infant had been placed with these good people to nurse: they were better off then. They had not been long married, and their eldest child was but just born. The father of their charge was one of those Italians nursed in the memory of the antique glory of Italy—one among the schiavi ognor frementi, who exerted himself to obtain the liberty of his country. He became the victim of its weakness. Whether he had died, or still lingered in the dungeons of Austria, was not known. His property was confiscated, his child became an orphan and a beggar. She continued with her foster parents, and bloomed in their rude abode, fairer than a garden rose among dark-leaved brambles.
When my father returned from Milan, he found playing with me in the hall of our villa a child fairer than pictured cherub—a creature who seemed to shed radiance from her looks, and whose form and motions were lighter than the chamois of the hills. The apparition was soon explained. With his permission my mother prevailed on her rustic guardians to yield their charge to her. They were fond of the sweet orphan. Her presence had seemed a blessing to them; but it would be unfair to her to keep her in poverty and want, when Providence afforded her such powerful protection. They consulted their village priest, and the result was that Elizabeth Lavenza became the inmate of my parents' house—my more than sister the beautiful and adored companion of all my occupations and my pleasures.
Every one loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverential attachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, my pride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully—"I have a pretty present for my Victor—to-morrow he shall have it." And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally, and looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her, I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me—my more than sister, since till death she was to be mine only.
Product details
- Publisher : Penguin Classics; Reissue edition (January 1, 2003)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 352 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0141439475
- ISBN-13 : 978-0141439471
- Reading age : 16+ years, from customers
- Lexile measure : 1170L
- Item Weight : 8.8 ounces
- Dimensions : 7.76 x 5.08 x 0.83 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #17,104 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #205 in Contemporary Literature & Fiction
- #343 in Folklore (Books)
- #627 in Classic Literature & Fiction
- Customer Reviews:
About the authors
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (née Godwin; 30 August 1797 – 1 February 1851) was an English novelist, short story writer, dramatist, essayist, biographer, and travel writer, best known for her Gothic novel Frankenstein: or, The Modern Prometheus (1818). She also edited and promoted the works of her husband, the Romantic poet and philosopher Percy Bysshe Shelley. Her father was the political philosopher William Godwin, and her mother was the philosopher and feminist Mary Wollstonecraft.
Mary Godwin's mother died when Mary was eleven days old; afterwards, Mary and her older half-sister, Fanny Imlay, were reared by their father. When Mary was four, Godwin married his neighbour, Mary Jane Clairmont. Godwin provided his daughter with a rich, if informal, education, encouraging her to adhere to his liberal political theories. In 1814, Mary Godwin began a romantic relationship with one of her father’s political followers, the married Percy Bysshe Shelley. Together with Mary's stepsister, Claire Clairmont, they left for France and travelled through Europe; upon their return to England, Mary was pregnant with Percy's child. Over the next two years, she and Percy faced ostracism, constant debt, and the death of their prematurely born daughter. They married in late 1816 after the suicide of Percy Shelley's first wife, Harriet.
In 1816, the couple famously spent a summer with Lord Byron, John William Polidori, and Claire Clairmont near Geneva, Switzerland, where Mary conceived the idea for her novel Frankenstein. The Shelleys left Britain in 1818 for Italy, where their second and third children died before Mary Shelley gave birth to her last and only surviving child, Percy Florence. In 1822, her husband drowned when his sailing boat sank during a storm near Viareggio. A year later, Mary Shelley returned to England and from then on devoted herself to the upbringing of her son and a career as a professional author. The last decade of her life was dogged by illness, probably caused by the brain tumour that was to kill her at the age of 53.
Until the 1970s, Mary Shelley was known mainly for her efforts to publish Percy Shelley's works and for her novel Frankenstein, which remains widely read and has inspired many theatrical and film adaptations. Recent scholarship has yielded a more comprehensive view of Mary Shelley’s achievements. Scholars have shown increasing interest in her literary output, particularly in her novels, which include the historical novels Valperga (1823) and Perkin Warbeck (1830), the apocalyptic novel The Last Man (1826), and her final two novels, Lodore (1835) and Falkner (1837). Studies of her lesser-known works such as the travel book Rambles in Germany and Italy (1844) and the biographical articles for Dionysius Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia (1829–46) support the growing view that Mary Shelley remained a political radical throughout her life. Mary Shelley's works often argue that cooperation and sympathy, particularly as practised by women in the family, were the ways to reform civil society. This view was a direct challenge to the individualistic Romantic ethos promoted by Percy Shelley and the Enlightenment political theories articulated by her father, William Godwin.
Wounded Warrior Publications leverages internet technology to publish books and then donates a portion of our proceeds to charities that support America's Wounded, Ill, and Injured Warriors.
Check out our publications at www.WoundedWarriorPublications.com
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
I am very passionate about the Japanese language and Japanese culture. I have worked hard to obtain several officially valid certifications obtained in Japan in these areas. I specialize in teaching the Japanese language and Japanese calligraphy. Years of experience support my work. I am a linguist by academic training. I do not improvise or invent methods that ultimately lead to failure, but quite the opposite. My students have also obtained high certifications in the area of Japanese language and Japanese calligraphy.
- Complete
- Original
- Unabridged
- Illustrated with book-end doodles about reading
- Translations of best translators of history
- Beautifully laid out reader-friendly format
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
- Complete
- Original
- Unabridged
- Illustrated with book-end doodles about reading
- Translations of best translators of history
- Beautifully laid out reader-friendly format
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
* AmazonClassics Edition (2 stars):
In the positive side the formatting is modern and professional, you can easily see that you are reading a letter for example; the typography is clean allowing you to read with more comfort. In the negative side is evil the lengths that AmazonClassics attempt to hide dates, there is no year of publication, which is a sin considering there are the two different versions from different years; the malign editor even hides the date that is in the preface, sobbing his hands in the excitement to draw the readers into the pit of despair.
* e-artnow edition (3 stars):
In the positive side it contains the pure text, it's a normal formatting, not excellent as the AmazonClassics but works, but it's more useful as it informs you about the edition used. I read it fast along the AmazonClassic so I didn't find errors but could not guarantee their non existence. In the negative side... I have no important observations, I don't like the cover, the cinema version doesn't correspond to the book.
In conclusion although the AmazonClassics edition is comfortable sadly it seems there is an attempt to hide the mentioned years. I cannot recommend it. The e-artnow edition is good enough, less comfortable to read but still has X-Ray and the mentioned years as the author intended them are present.
Taking aside the editorial aspect I loved a lot to read Frankenstein. Mary Shelley made, barely 20 years old, an awe-inspiring horror novel. In my opinion far more impacting than Stevenson's "Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde," with which it shares some characteristics. The creature, the creation of Victor Frankenstein, is human, he does terrible actions because he suffers, he has been abandoned by the man that donned life to him. Victor Frankenstein is the monster. Surrounded by persons that love him, even the creature could love him, he betrays them without compassion. He suffers but never for others but by the guilt of his lies being unleashed. Is crystalline that he only love physical beauty, Shelley is quite talented to make you feel like the witness of the mental struggle and physical stress of a dark hearted man.
If there is something that reveal both the youth of Mary Shelly and her culture devoid of life experience is the fact that her characters triumph or fail through the study of books rather than from work, knowledge and reality. I felt Europe quite small too, it seemed like either the each of the characters bought the seven-league boots or that Europe is as big as a thematic park. But these are minor details for a classic whose reading at least once could enrich you.
In the introduction to this particular edition, author Elizabeth Kostova (who wrote a modern take on the Dracula story: “The Historian”), says that she picked up the book to reread, to refresh her memory, and as she was reading it she realized that she wasn’t rereading it at all. She’d never read it. She realized that she knew the myth of Frankenstein, the Hollywood version, the Halloween version, the bolt through the neck version. What she knew (or thought she knew) had come from pop culture.
I knew that I had never read Frankenstein. It was always on my ‘to read …sometime” list. I couldn’t pass up the cover, so I bought the book. Like Ms Kostova, I felt that I knew the story of Frankenstein and his monster. Growing up in the 1970s, with all the weekend and late-night sci-fi/horror movies, I’d seen the old Bela Lugosi version, and many of the various other old black-and-white retellings. And lets not forget the Mel Brooks adaptation (which I was fairly certain had little to do with Shelley’s novel).
When I sat down to read the book, I was drawn into the tale by the letters of Captain R. Walton, who is on an expedition to find his way through the icy waters of the north. Walton catches a glimpse of the monster, and not long afterwards rescues Victor Frankenstein from the icy water.
The book is broken into three parts: Part One is mostly told via letters from Walton to his sister; Part Two is Victor Frankenstein’s narrative for the first part, then the monster’s narrative for the second half. Part Three takes up the story with Frankenstein again, ending with a few letters from Walton.
There are several more detailed summaries of the plot, so I won’t go into much detail. However, there are a few things that I think are important to know (they are, in a slight way, spoilers — but, I promise not to give any of the major points away).
The book is quite noticeably different from the Hollywood myth that most of us grew up learning. There’s no scene where Frankenstein is in a tower awaiting lightening, there’s no evil madness to him — he looks at making a creature as a scientific enquiry, rather than anything with evil intentions. There is no Ygor/Igor. There’s no little girl who hands the monster a flower. And, most astonishing: the monster speaks — eloquently.
There are several gaps, parts where the reader just has to let the story unfold without pausing to think to rationally about it (the lack of detail on how the monster was created, the way the monster was educated and learned to speak and read, etc.) Don’t get caught up in trying to accept the logic — it’s not there. Just follow the tale, don’t think too deeply about how the monster learned so much from watching a family. Just go with it. The gaps aren’t really that important.
What is important is that our pop culture has distorted the story so much that when one hears the word “Frankenstein” one thinks of the monster, not the doctor. In the novel, the monster is never given a name - he is simply referred to as monster, daemon, creature, horror. And, our pop culture version of the story has taken away the deep philosophical aspects of the novel. And, we’ve learned that the creature is the ‘bad guy’, but, there’s much to be said about Victor Frankenstein - most of it not nice. In many ways, he is the ‘bad guy’ of the story. He’s so intent on bringing a creature to life that when he does and sees how ugly and horrid the creature is, he immediately abandons it, leaving the monster to fend for himself. Frankenstein is relieved that the monster disappeared and barely gives him much thought until tragedy strikes the Frankenstein home. Two years have passed and monster and creator finally meet, and the monster speaks what I find to be one of the saddest things I’ve read. Frankenstein is angry at what his monster had done, and wants to kill him. In reply: “‘I expected this reception,’ said the daemon. ‘All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! … Remember that I am your creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.”
The monster believes that if Victor will make him a wife, he will have someone to share his misery and torment with — they will be bound by their both being outcasts. Frankenstein first agrees to create a bride, but then realizes he cannot do so, for he might make more evil creatures.
What is most interesting to me is that the Doctor is really a whiny, narcissistic man; he made the creature, and ran off immediately afterwards, abandoning the monster. When the monster does some bad things, Frankenstein takes no responsibility — he never thinks “maybe if I stayed and taught him what it was like to be human, he might have had a chance.” Instead, he let the monster loose in the world, and because of the creatures size and hideous features, he’s attacked and chased off everywhere he goes. He doesn’t learn about life from a benevolent creator — he learns about life from the flawed humans that inhabit the earth. But Frankenstein moans and groans about how tragic his life has become because of the monster without every really acknowledging his own lack of responsibility. In a way, part of the idea of the creature’s character comes down to the old Nature versus Nurture argument. In this case there was no nurture — he only had the horrified reactions of people to learn from. As the monster says “All men hate the wretched.”
I was surprised to find that I disliked the Doctor so much. While I can’t say that I found the murderous monster lovable, there was certainly something very sympathetic about him. Frankenstein spends pages lamenting the misery of his life, yet it is a ‘woe is me’ type of lament. The creature seems more philosophical about his wretched existence and suffering — the monster isn’t about a bit of whining and lamenting, but he seems to have learned things about life that Frankenstein (the supposedly more educated one) fails to grasp.
There are a few flaws in the tale — I’ve mentioned some above (i.e. how the monster learns to read and write). But there are some technical flaws as well — it’s difficult to keep track of how much time has passed. Sometimes it seems very long, until it’s mentioned only a few months have passed. Other times, years have passed with barely a mention. Frankenstein was a young man, in his mid-twenties when he created the monster, though it was tough to tell how old he was at the end. Stylistically, the novel is by turns engrossing, followed by a several pages that seem to drag on and on, making the pacing of the novel feel uneven. Yet, in spite of these small flaws, the story is much deeper in meaning, more philosophical in nature than I expected. It’s a novel that could lead to good conversations about the nature of good and evil, about who was the real monster of the story, and did Doctor or monster learn anything of value along the way.
Most importantly, the legend of Frankenstein in our culture is one of horror — it’s often called a horror novel. But, it really isn’t. There is a bit of violence, though not graphic at all. Mostly, it’s a meditation on good and evil, life and death, and what we should or shouldn’t do if we have the power to do something. The story just happens to have a monster as one of the main characters. It’s not a story that would give you bad dreams, or make you feel fearful if you were home alone.
I’m glad the comic-book cover captured my attention, and that I got around to reading the story sooner rather than later. I think it is a story that will keep me thinking for some time to come. I highly recommend the story (in whatever edition fits your budget or catches your fancy.) I give the story 4.5/5 stars.
Top reviews from other countries
If you think that because you have watched the movie adaptations you can skip this book, then you don’t know what you are missing.
The movie obscured Shelley’s intentions.
This is not a horror book.
It’s a drama at its finest.
The writing is fascinating!
And if you add the audiobook narrated by Dan Stevens you will be transported to the era and be totally involved in the emotional rollercoaster.
The writing is complex and vivid and expresses the anguish of both monster and creator.
I thought the story was exceptionally well told and the writing definitely brought it to life.
What I enjoyed the most is that we have the monster’s perspective.
What an incredible imagination!
The author was 18 years old and this book was written in 1818, so take that into consideration.
What a great read!
Je pensais que les pages étaient argentées sur le côté pour rester dans le thème de la couverture mais non. Cela dit, il est très beau et chaque première lettre de chapitre a une police délicate que j’aime beaucoup 😊
Pour les curieux, j’ai fais une vidéo et pris quelques photos ! Hâte de lire cette édition et de me replonger dans l’univers 🖤❤️
Reviewed in France on May 23, 2024
Je pensais que les pages étaient argentées sur le côté pour rester dans le thème de la couverture mais non. Cela dit, il est très beau et chaque première lettre de chapitre a une police délicate que j’aime beaucoup 😊
Pour les curieux, j’ai fais une vidéo et pris quelques photos ! Hâte de lire cette édition et de me replonger dans l’univers 🖤❤️
Victor, in the quest for knowledge(or dangerous obsession for ambition) created a monster,but was it really a monster??
The story showcased the yearning for companionship, the desire for acceptance and belonging and what does a little kindness can't fix, only if each one could get an equal share of it!
The sync between character's emotions and the changing season is so good and poignant, spring for the happy cheery vibe and winters, quite the opposite.
The switch in narrations added an exquisite touch to the story, making it even more captivating.
What makes Frankenstein a must-read book is how the author beautifully expresses emotions with just a few words.