The Victorian Horror Novel Reading Group reads Frankenstein and Dracula (Updated)
We are halfway through Frankenstein. We’d be finished by now but for all the meals and coffees with friends who want empirical evidence that we are alive and “normal” (What is that?). These are inevitably interrupted by people approaching us to say: “You’re alive!” Not only are we alive, but we are healthier than most people: according to our many, many hospital tests, we do not have high blood pressure and our blood sugar is normal. And according to the second opinion of our Chief Mentat and Maester, we did not have encephalitis and do not have cytomegalovirus. Details in the next column.
Frankenstein is fantastic! We now like Mary Shelley better than her husband and most of the Romantics, and she was 18 when she wrote this early science-fiction novel. Our opinion of Frankenstein has been formed and colored by the movie adaptations, so it’s a little shocking to read the original and find that it could be a different movie altogether.
Not that the James Whale movies (See Gods and Monsters starring Ian McKellen in which he does not add an extra syllable to the end of every sentence, and Whatever Happened To Brendan Frasier. It’s about the making of Frankenstein. Avoid the Kenneth Branagh Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein with the extended homoerotic wrestling in amniotic fluid featuring Branagh and Robert De Niro. Unless you’re into that.) and Mel Brooks’s Young Frankenstein (It’s Frankenshteen!) weren’t great, but reading Frankenstein highlights the difference between reading a novel and watching the movie based upon it. The movie you can see unfolding in your head as you read is unique to you. A movie adaptation is other people’s interpretation. That’s why the core fan group always has problems with the adaptation.
Frankenstein reads not just as a cautionary tale about playing god; it is an indictment of the creator. Victor Frankenstein makes his creature and then is horrified by it and abandons it. The creature is left alone to fend for himself, to figure out the complexities of language, to learn how to survive in a very hostile enviroment. His creator shuns him. Why create something in your own image and then abandon it in a world that is indifferent at best, and is trying to kill him at worst?
To be continued. Meanwhile, in Comments, allancarreon and balqis have gone ahead with the discussion of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, focusing on the monumental question: Is Lucy a slut?
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Whether it is due to our recent encounter with brain fever or our fascination with the television series Penny Dreadful we cannot be certain, but suddenly we feel compelled to read the masterworks of 19th century English horror literature, Frankenstein and Dracula. We must admit that despite having seen many film adaptations of the novels by Mary Shelley (including the Mel Brooks classic Young Frankenstein) and Bram Stoker (Gary Oldman in armor that makes him look like a giant insect sends vampire sirens to bite Keanu Reeves and stop him unleashing his British accent), we have never read the source material, for shame (And we were a Comp Lit major).
Therefore we shall attempt to rectify this error most grievous not merely by expressing ourself in this rather florid manner, but by perusing Shelley’s Frankenstein and Stoker’s Dracula and conversing about them with any and all interested parties. Please make yourselves known in Comments.
Our Minister of Propaganda wishes to remind those who would obtain the books to avoid the abridged versions. Those who wish to read them online or to download the free e-books may visit the most dependable Project Gutenberg.
Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley
Dracula by Bram Stoker
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
June 24th, 2014 at 08:17
Most definitely, I am interested in conversing about these tales. However, I shall ensure to browse through them once more – for it has been close to twenty years since last I perused either one. I do remember the horror of Dracula, of how I was frightened by the story when I read this at a young age. I also recall thinking that Lucy Westenra was such a slut. I mean, a woman of ill-repute. But I was probably just envious that she had three suitors.
Dracula in particular, being one of the first “adult” novels I read, remains close to my heart. It led to my obsession with vampires, from Anne Rice to Buffy to the Lost Boys and even Underworld (but most certainly not the insipid Twilight).
And the Coppola movie, comparatively faithful despite changes to the material, is still one of my favorite movies if only for the visuals and for introducing me to Keanu Reeves. I pretend to not have heard the British accent; I just knew he was pretty to look at.
As for Frankenstein, I liked it but admit I barely recall the story any more. Even the film with Kenneth Branagh, Robert DeNiro, and Helena Bonham-Carter is something I vaguely remember other than the fiery scene.
‘Tis definitely time to revisit these.
June 25th, 2014 at 22:16
I would as lief join this reading circle. I abide by the opinion that a causerie on two of Victoriana’s frontier works shall not fail to prove enlightening to the intellect and appealing to the senses. It would be such a pleasure to revisit and hold forth a colloquy on the foibles of Renfield, the coquetry of Lucy, the pathos of Victor.
In other words, pag-chismisan natin ang mga nakakalokang Victorians!
June 25th, 2014 at 22:23
allancarreon, balqis: First question. Lucy: pokpok or what?
June 26th, 2014 at 17:57
Original Recipe Lucy acts sweet and pure yet gets three marriage proposals in one day and then gossips about all three men. Then she accepts the proposal of the rich one who has the title of “Lord.” Verdict: pokpok with brains.
Coppola Lucy has no pretentions of being virtuous, reads the Kama Sutra, giggles lasciviously at every innuendo, and sleepwalks half-naked as though she were in a Bonne Tyler music video. Verdict: Hot & Crispy pokpok.
June 28th, 2014 at 00:18
A pa-sweet pokpok if there ever was one. She’s this supposed paragon of purity and coyness but no–I think her character is of interest because she is human. She announces that she doesn’t “take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions,” and denounces some girls as “so vain! You and I, Mina dear, who… are going to settle down… into old married women, can despise vanity.”
But: “Why can’t they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?” sounds really malandi but in fairness it’s well-meaning. She is proposed to by three men and feels sad for the two losing parties. As Allan points out, she chooses the “Lord.” Practical pokpok, may I add.
Maybe this is why Stoker inflicts a cruel fate on her later–we hate the pretty, well-meaning girl who can be both sweet and voluptuous and who marries the perfect guy. Poor Lucy, kung nagmadre na lang kaya siya, makakagat pa kaya siya ni Dracula? Haha.
July 2nd, 2014 at 07:24
That Lucy ultimately met such a fate while Mina was saved by their men does reflect a (subconscious?) indictment of behaviors considered inappropriate by Victorian standards. Particularly since Mina, unlike her Coppola counterpart who was obviously a secret slut, was depicted as such a paragon of virtue that she probably qualifies as a Mary Sue.
And yet Lucy attracted three different suitors, all gentlemen of upstanding reputation, while Mina had one (to be fair, Jonathan was already her fiance when we meet them, so we don’t really know if she had plenty of suitors prior). While all three men were presented as viewing Lucy to be pure and virtuous, I think there is subtext here that they know Lucy exudes a sensuality underneath the surface of her sweetness.
So is this a look into Stoker’s psyche as influenced by the social norms of his time? On one hand, he portrays the secret slut as highly desirable, so desirable that she would have three marriage proposals in one day. On the other hand, he gives her the worst fate in the book.
Is he basically saying that sensuality is desirable and to be sought after, but that it must ultimately be destroyed before it corrupts those around it, particularly the men?
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As for Frankenstein, I am yet to re-read it, but I agree that it was decades ahead of its time. Shelley challenged the norms and risked a lot in presenting this story. Not bad for a novel that came out because she and several others staged a competition to write the best horror story. Now I need to unearth a copy.
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PS. Upon rewatching the Coppola movie, let me correct myself: Mina and Lucy were not reading Kama Sutra but a rather raunchy version of Arabian Nights. Which now I am compelled to find.
July 2nd, 2014 at 09:40
allancarreon: Remind us to lend you the Burton Arabian Nights.
July 2nd, 2014 at 09:50
No need, here is the unexpurgated translation:
http://burtoniana.org/books/1885-Arabian%20Nights/index.htm
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/burt1k1/
July 2nd, 2014 at 14:11
Frankenstein is a deceptive book. You think it’s short but you have a lot to think of as you read, therefore making it longer, and that isn’t a bad thing. When I read this, I remember being angry because of men’s capacity for vicious hatred (a reflexive reaction, I realize). But can we blame them if they are face to face with a creature that can be a threat to their survival, even though this creature means well?
I was with the daemon until the end. At least he … wait, you’re only halfway through. This makes me wonder if you mind spoilers, both in books and films.
July 3rd, 2014 at 15:42
Is it okay to post about something that is spoiler-ish (Dracula)?
July 4th, 2014 at 15:32
Angus, I think ultimately that is another insight gleaned in the tragedy of Frankenstein and his monster. Humans fear or shun what they do not know, particularly the “other” that does not conform to their notions of what is the norm. And what is different, what does not fit, what defies social acceptability, must become outcast. In many ways, this makes Frankenstein’s monster and Dracula’s Lucy Westenra similar, particularly in light of Victorian social mores.
July 4th, 2014 at 15:54
Thanks for the Arabian Nights links, Jessica! I only read a couple of them when I was a boy (Aladdin and Ali Baba) and watched the old Sinbad movies. So getting to read more will be a treat.
I do remember how gory the original tales were. Then again, aren’t they all? Murders of holy women and boiling oil poured into thieves-infested jars are certainly not common in garden-variety stories. I was around ten years old, and I loved how horrific these were. Then Disney happened.
Don’t get me wrong. Aladdin is one of my favorite Disney movies, but I recall thinking when I first watched the movie when I was fifteen, “Why isn’t this set in China? And isn’t Beedr-el-Budr (or Badroulbadour in some accounts) a lovelier name for a princess than Jasmine? Even if it doesn’t quite roll off the tongue so easily?”
July 7th, 2014 at 17:42
I read Frankenstein on my way to Vientiane from Bangkok to apply for a visa and it was the funnest thing I did on that trip (doing visa trips is exhausting). I thought Victor was too emo, but then he had good reason to be emo. I agree that the novel is deceptive. You think you’re getting horror, but what it actually is, is drama/tragedy. Ang saklap.