I think I’ve found a more annoying character than Napoleon Dynamite in Frankenstein. What an insufferable, selfish, annoying man. Great prose work propelled this along for me, as well as the many nods that we will never, and should never, empathize with the man, really. It sure feels Victorian to me as well: Wild scene transitions without connective tissue at all; heavily melodramatic conveying of circumstance, no matter what is being discussed (Hello, Wuthering Heights); and a really heavy hand pressed toward The Message.

You really have to be in the mood for it, is what I’m saying. Frankenstein is a science bro rather than a gym bro, and I for one can only take so much of his muling cowardice.

Happily, the ending came to a much more nuanced place than suggested. Boy, do boys need their fathers.

3.5 rounded up because overall I’m positive on it.