I know you are not supposed to drive and read but I started this one at lunch. I was looking for something a little different and saw this listed on AI know you are not supposed to drive and read but I started this one at lunch. I was looking for something a little different and saw this listed on Amazon's website list of 100 mysteries to read before you died. So I got it. And I started it and.. I couldn't put it down. On my way home, I almost stopped off the road in rush hours traffic to read it. However, I really wanted to get home so I could finish. So I read it at stop lights.... and I read during the crawl times on the road.
I got home and read it while I cooked dinner. It was gripping and un-put-downable. I finally finished it late that night.
So, if you are looking for a good book to read, I recommend this one. The setting is great - the Museum of Natural History in NYC! The story is captivating.
I don't, however, recommend driving and reading. So get it when you have time to sit and read a book in a day. Because I'm guessing, you probably won't want to put it down either....more
Technically I haven't read "The Secret Sharer" yet. Nope, I just jumped right into Heart of Darkness which is what I paid a whopping 10 cents to readTechnically I haven't read "The Secret Sharer" yet. Nope, I just jumped right into Heart of Darkness which is what I paid a whopping 10 cents to read (I love used book stores).
The whole book felt like a dream really. Dense, visual in a strange way, and you don't really know what is going on because your attention is drawn in weird places. I don't know how to explained it. But it was like that... I really loved Joseph Conrad's writing which I'll come back later and give some examples, but I have to run now.......more
but I have to kind of laugh at my imagination because I sit here and think about that 'slogan' "Friends doIt touched my heart. It broke my heart too.
but I have to kind of laugh at my imagination because I sit here and think about that 'slogan' "Friends don't let friends drive drunk" and how I would rewrite that slogan to fit this story and let that be my review... but it would spoil the story. So I'll just keep it to myself....more
I must confess I so many misconceptions about you.
I thought you were the monster (and maybe you were....), buFrankenstein, Frankenstein, Frankenstein
I must confess I so many misconceptions about you.
I thought you were the monster (and maybe you were....), but the name, Frankenstein, belongs to you. Dr. Victor Frankenstein. The one who re-animated dead flesh to life. All this time I thought the title of this crazy story of yours was the name of the monster. Upon thinking about it days after I'd finished the book, I thought it sad the monster never had a name. For all his learning and reading and stalking the people he never thought to give himself a name. Perhaps he should take your name too, after all you created him. Perhaps inside he did. (I could say more but I don't want to give anything away lest someone doesn't know your story)
I also thought this story summed up as the lightning striking the table with the monster upon it and your crying out "It's Alive, It's Alive" was how it all went down. But it wasn't much like that at all... In fact, you never tell us what really happened or how. It's your closely guarded secret. And to be honest, I really want to know and I don't want to know... (I get it, you'll never be like Archimedes running naked through the streets naked in excitement crying "Eureka! Eureka!" and that's a little bit sad for the amazing (but icky) thing you were able to do when all else only speculated whether it could be done. No, you did the opposite. I think about that and wonder how it might have been different if you reaction was.... But anyways....)
I thought before I ever read this story, it was all black and white (brilliant scientist, and bad bad monster) so why even read it? It was not really my thing. I didn't care. But, oh my goodness, I felt so sad for the monster at points of the story and very angry with you! I had to stop and think a lot, 'What would I have done?' or 'How would I have reacted?' in order to sort out the complicated feelings I was having concerning two of you and all your actions.
In this day and age, where my imagination secretly thinks maybe deep underground they are cloning people just to see if they can and what it would be like (kinda like you did with your monster) you've left me with a lot to ponder.... and I guess in the end, that is what a good story does. It stays with you after you finish it. It haunts your imagination and makes you think about things just a little bit differently. I am still wondering what my reaction would be if I encounter the poor, terrifying, deeply lonely wretch you created without knowing things about him (as you and others didn't know)... It still makes me pause and ponder and wonder about myself and the both of you - are we different are we the same. Would I have to be blind to actually hear out your creation because the sight of him is really that terrifying? And on another level less terrifying level, how many times have I and others judged on looks alone? Did the monster have a soul or is anything created that way inherently evil or good or both? Does the sadness I feel for the monsters plight really justify his actions? If not, does that make him inherently evil? Would clones have souls/reason/ whatever that "it" is... what would their inner hearts made of... how would it happen? What is life if you can piece together a monster and animate it - ok it's just a story but what about clones and artificial intelligence our society is so hellbent on moving towards - today it's google glass and tv shows about merging internet chips in men, and technology merging with biology, but what can happen? Can we as humans approach all creation with more kindness and avert disasters or are some just bad, bad, bad to the bone? And finally, can the monsters you make with body parts from the grave pieced together actually have little monster babies?
I must also confess, thought your story wasn't going to be very good or capture my imagination but it did. It kept me up late at night to finish it, had me stealing snippets at stop lights and all the in between times of my day. And it was perfect for this bitter cold weather, overcast skies, and curled up under a blanket by the fire.
P.S. props to Mary Shelly for writing this when she was 18 years old.