by Mary Shelley
When Robert Walton decides to head to the Arctic to challenge himself and go on an adventure, little did he know that he'd meet someone whose life adventure far surpasses his own.
Just hours after seeing one giant man pass by the ship, then stranded in the ice, another man appears, sick, tired, and on a journey to destroy his greatest creation.
That man is Victor Frankenstein and his quest is destroy the monster he made.
He tells Walton his tale, both as a warning and prayer.
Final thoughts: It's an iconic book with that rare female author of her day writing a "man's" story. Unfortunately, it's annoying. It's a story within a story within a story and every single narrator has more than one moment where he says something to the effect of, "I know I'm talking a lot, but... " and then keeps on talking. Walton is re-telling the story of Victor, who at one point re-tells the story of the monster. There are a few brief moments of feeling sorry for the monster, but he keeps turning it around and becoming a whiny pain in the butt. And Victor isn't great, either. Gothic, maybe. Good, not really.