It was a pretty horrible week all around this past week, what with damage from Laura, the deaths of Chadwick Boseman, Julia Reed and Gail Sheehy, and assorted other craptastic things, so I thought it a good time to focus on a piece of classic literature. It is Frankenstein Day, after all.
Frankenstein Day is celebrated on the anniversary of the birth of the writer of Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus; that would be Mary Shelley, though the first edition in 1818 was published anonymously. Today she’d probably be classified as a bleeding liberal, as her work (it wasn’t just Frankenstein) often argued that sympathy and cooperation were the way to reform civil society. The audacity!
But no, I won’t dwell on the book itself, because, for one thing, it’s been a looooong time since I read it, and for another thing, we know I look for the funny. And there’s a lot of funny that’s come from Frankenstein (ahem, Young Frankenstein, in my opinion the best Mel Brooks movie).