Frankenstein: eller den moderne Prometeus

Frankenstein: eller den moderne Prometeus

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley , Måns Winberg (翻译者) , John-Henri Holmberg
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Romance Mystery Science Fiction +23 more
格式 精装书
页数 222
语言 瑞典语
已发布 Jun 10, 2008
出版商 Bakhåll
ISBN-10 9177422775
ISBN-13 9789177422778
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描述

Frankenstein, a tale woven through the fabric of human ambition and the quest for knowledge, explores the darker sides of scientific pursuit. At its core, it follows Victor Frankenstein, a brilliant yet consumed scientist who pushes the boundaries of life and death in his obsessive attempt to create a sentient being. This act of creation, however, leads to unforeseen destruction, as the creature grapples with its own existence, isolation, and the quest for acceptance in a world that shuns it.

Mary Shelley’s narrative delves deep into the psychological turmoil of both creator and creation, using their intertwined fates to question the moral implications of unfettered ambition. Amid themes of loneliness and responsibility, the reader becomes privy to the conflict between aspiration and the ethical ramifications of one’s actions. This timeless story presents a chilling reflection on humanity's struggle with the concept of monstrosity, not only in physical form but in the choices that define who we are.

As the characters navigate their intertwined destinies, the reader is invited to ponder profound questions about identity, belonging, and the pursuit of power. The haunting legacy of Frankenstein encourages introspection about the boundaries of scientific exploration and the moral obligations that come with the ability to create. In the end, it serves as a cautionary tale, reminding all that with great power comes an even greater responsibility.

评论

5.0

I loved this book. The story is so intense and emotional. It’s not just about the monster, it’s about loneliness, mistakes, and wanting to be loved. Mary Shelley’s writing is amazing, and the way she shows emotions and makes you think is the perfect point of this book.

This book dives straight into the consequences of unchecked ambition, the ethics of creation, and the devastating loneliness of being made “wrong” by the world before you ever get a chance to exist. Victor Frankenstein is brilliant but catastrophically irresponsible — he wants the glory of creating life, but none of the accountability that comes with it. His cowardice is honestly more monstrous than the creature’s violence.And the creature? Shelley gives him a terrifying level of emotional depth. He’s articulate, perceptive, painfully self-aware. His tragedy isn’t that he’s ugly — it’s that he learns empathy first, and cruelty second. Watching him shift from yearning for connection to calculating vengeance is the kind of character arc modern authors still try and fail to replicate.What really carries the novel is its atmosphere. The isolation. The raw, bleak landscapes mirroring the absolute unraveling of two souls who can’t escape each other. Shelley understood existential dread before we had a name for it.Is the pacing Victorian? Obviously. Does it meander? Sure. But the ideas are sharp enough to cut through any slow patches, and the emotional intelligence on display is still leagues above most contemporary “dark academia” imitators.Bottom line: Frankenstein is a masterpiece because it doesn’t just tell a story — it forces you to confront what responsibility, compassion, and monstrosity actually mean. And every time you reread it, you walk away with a slightly different answer.

This book dives straight into the consequences of unchecked ambition, the ethics of creation, and the devastating loneliness of being made “wrong” by the world before you ever get a chance to exist. Victor Frankenstein is brilliant but catastrophically irresponsible — he wants the glory of creating life, but none of the accountability that comes with it. His cowardice is honestly more monstrous than the creature’s violence.And the creature? Shelley gives him a terrifying level of emotional depth. He’s articulate, perceptive, painfully self-aware. His tragedy isn’t that he’s ugly — it’s that he learns empathy first, and cruelty second. Watching him shift from yearning for connection to calculating vengeance is the kind of character arc modern authors still try and fail to replicate.What really carries the novel is its atmosphere. The isolation. The raw, bleak landscapes mirroring the absolute unraveling of two souls who can’t escape each other. Shelley understood existential dread before we had a name for it.Is the pacing Victorian? Obviously. Does it meander? Sure. But the ideas are sharp enough to cut through any slow patches, and the emotional intelligence on display is still leagues above most contemporary “dark academia” imitators.Bottom line: Frankenstein is a masterpiece because it doesn’t just tell a story — it forces you to confront what responsibility, compassion, and monstrosity actually mean. And every time you reread it, you walk away with a slightly different answer.

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