Dark secret: I've somehow made it this far through my life without reading Frankenstein. This is the 1818 text, which reliable sources assure me is far superior to the self-bowdlerized 1835 revision. It's hard to evaluate this book apart from its place as a foundational work of science fiction and gothic horror. While it still has the ability to impress and horrify in places, it's hobbled by a weak central character. Victor Frankenstein is unworthy of the creation of his 'monster', his rejection arbitrary and cowardly. For all its pain and loneliness, the monster is surprisingly aesthetic and moral. Victor, dude, you stitched together an 8 foot tall thing from corpses and shocked it to life. You were surprised when you succeeded?