If it wasn’t for a class, I highly doubt I would have finished this book. Victor Frankenstein is entitled, hubristic, and possibly the original emo/angsty male protagonist; the unnamed monster was also unsympathetic in a variety of ways; honestly, the characters irritated me in general. The premise yields some interesting themes, sure, but the plot left much to be desired.

This isn’t a pity party, it’s a self-pitying contest. “Your agony, while great, was nothing compared to mine,” etc, etc. Yes, but did you consider that — despite how eagerly you apportion blame to your nemesis — you created the situation yourself?