Delighted and grateful to share the news that CREATURE: A Novel of Mary Shelley and Frankenstein has received five stars and the “Highly Recommended Award of Excellence” from The Historical Fiction Company. This designation has come my way with a lovely review from The Historical Fiction Company, included below:
Creature: A Novel of Mary Shelley and Frankenstein Editorial Review
It begins with earth on a coffin-lid, unmoving. It begins with a woman in labor, thrashing in the birth of a girl. It begins with the doctor, his hands red. “I’m going to remove the placenta now,” he declares to the moaning woman. “Still stuck fast, inside. You fed your child but now she’s born and she can survive on her own. She will. She must.”
Can the mother hear him? Does she answer? Are her bright golden-brown eyes open or squeezed shut against the pain that’s brought out the sweat all over her, wringing her long hair into ropes around her throat? No one will ever know.
The scissors are slapped into the doctor’s red palm and the grinding snip of metal through flesh shears the child away from all the world she has ever known. The father can only pace and try not to stare at all that blood before he flees the room in dread.
The prologue begins with a visceral image of the scene at hand. With a being still stranded between worlds and lives, we are introduced to a four-limbed, livid thing and a story that brings Creature to life. Part 1 introduces us to Mary, and we begin her story.
For more than 200 years, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein has been the focus of numerous retellings, adaptations, and interpretations. It’s a subject we are all familiar with, but seeing a new take on it is always refreshing. By combining literary magic with historical accuracy, Amy Weldon creates a gripping and imaginative portrayal of Mary Shelley’s life in Creature: A Novel of Mary Shelley and Frankenstein.
The book is divided into five parts, making it easy to follow the story and the timeline. Each of those parts has chapters within that give the locations and dates of things that are happening within. I found this format easier to read and travel along with the story.
The novel takes us on a journey of Shelley’s own struggles and triumphs with the unsettling presence of her most famous invention, Victor Frankenstein’s Creature. It is the story of the lady who began the legend, and Weldon examines the relationships between creator and creation, history and fiction, and humanity and terror.
Under a wych elm in Sussex sprawls a tall boy with a mop of russet curls and a high forehead like his father’s and grandfather’s and a light like a spirit lamp flickering in his dark blue eyes. Where that light will lead him, no one can tell. Surely not the Creature, who leans unseen against the elm’s gray bark and peers over the boy’s shoulder at the book in his hand. Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit / Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste / Brought death into the world, and all our woe… These words touch something in the Creature he can’t yet place, a familiar premonition, a troubling bell that’s yet to ring.
Creature’s poetic and atmospheric style enthralls us from the first paragraph. We are instantly transported to Mary’s world by the evocative description of the opening scene and then throughout the rest of the story.
Creature’s inventive dual story structure is among its most remarkable features – a feature I really appreciate in storytelling. Weldon alternates between Mary Shelley’s real journey – from a bright, wayward adolescent to a sad widow and literary legend – and the voice of Frankenstein’s Creature, who serves as Mary’s companion and monitor. This creative storytelling choice allows for an intriguing analysis of Shelley’s concepts as well as the ageless themes of ambition, loneliness, and the consequences of creation.
The story begins in 1816, the legendary “Year Without a Summer,” when Mary gets the idea for Frankenstein while competing with Percy Bysshe Shelley, Lord Byron, and others in a ghost-story competition at Lake Geneva. Her turbulent life, which includes the early deaths of her husband, her battles to become a renowned writer, and the deaths of her children, is then the main focus of the story. There are passages written from the Creature’s perspective throughout, offering a poignant and unsettling examination of Mary’s life and the society she inhabits. This interplay between the real and the imagined deepens the novel’s emotional depth and makes it an engaging and intriguing read.
There are smooth transitions between the two storylines in this well-structured book. Weldon captures the ambiance of the time period with rich historical knowledge in her well-written, poetic, and very evocative prose. Readers may easily discern between Mary’s account and the Creature’s thoughts because of the formatting, which promotes the dual perspective. There will be no misunderstandings thanks to the story’s seamless development, which ensures an engaging reading experience.
The Creature lurks hopefully behind the old pianoforte that’s been ruined where the rain came down on it through the ceiling, but neither Robert nor the lord invites him to join their sparring game. Candles flicker in their holders on the pianoforte’s warped lid. Under the eight-hundred-year- old roof beams, with the threadbare Turkey carpet flung back and the windows open to the cold night, Robert and the lord lunge and sweat and pant, jabbing at each other with upraised hands. Maybe they can’t see the Creature. He’s still learning the rules in these strange places where he finds himself, still connecting them with Mary, that girl lingering so stubbornly in his mind. Watching the housemaid, Susan, helps. She fades into and out of a room like a shadow. Yes, m’lord. No, m’lord. But the boy Robert is a servant too. And here he is swinging his arms at the lord as if he means to kill him. It’s a mystery. Like so much in the world beyond his father’s room with its wires and vats and knives.
The portrayal of Mary Shelley is nuanced and sophisticated, capturing her fragility, resiliency, and brilliance. From the weight of her mother’s feminist heritage (Mary Wollstonecraft) to her battle for literary recognition in a male-dominated society, readers are given a greater grasp of her inner world. Realistic depictions of her relationships with Lord Byron, Percy, and her father William Godwin highlight the intensity and suffering that shaped her life.
On the other hand, the Creature functions as Mary’s existential and psychological equivalent. He represents her anxieties, regrets, and hidden desires rather than being just a work of fiction. His story sheds light on the nature of creation, accountability, and the hazy boundary between imagination and reality. By adding a layer of conceptual depth that enhances the reading experience, this duality takes the book above the level of a straightforward historical retelling.
The work skillfully blends the concepts of Frankenstein with Mary’s actual experiences while retaining a strong feeling of continuity. Every chapter builds on the one before it, guaranteeing a smooth progression that reflects the growth of both Mary and her fictional counterpart. Readers may easily follow the complex story structure thanks to the seamless transitions between timelines and viewpoints. Creature‘s ending is both appropriate and moving. Weldon honors Mary’s legacy without resorting to hyperbole, proving Frankenstein‘s continued significance as well as her enduring literary impact.
Bringing the themes of creation, grief, and literary immortality together, the book ends on a contemplative note. Even though Mary’s life narrative is clearly sad, the conclusion provides a sense of closure and gratitude for her accomplishments.
Creature’s inventive use of dual narration distinguishes it from other historical novels on Mary Shelley. Weldon creates a remarkably unique and provocative story by giving the Creature a voice and fusing his thoughts with Mary’s existence. This method offers a new viewpoint on the interaction between creators and their creations in addition to reexamining Frankenstein‘s legacy.
Behind the Vestal temple comes a slither and thump of feet on stones and the Creature draws back into its shadow as the walker edges around the temple on its opposite side. It’s Shelley, heedless of robbers although it’s past midnight and Mary has gone to sleep in their bed in the flat at Via Sistina long since. Caring for William all day, she must long for sleep as other people long for meat. But then, of course, Shelley objects to meat on philosophical grounds. Having descended the Spanish Steps and skirted along the bottom of the Quirinal Hill through the streets around the Pantheon, he’s admitted himself to the Forum, where no sane and law-abiding Roman would go at night. Yet Shelley loves ruins by moonlight.
Amy Weldon writes beautiful work that is both poetic and readable, full of historical background without sacrificing emotional nuance. In order to keep both Mary’s emotional journey and the Creature’s philosophical reflections interesting, she expertly strikes a balance between contemplation and narrative pace. Her commitment to historical accuracy and contemporary sensibilities provide a rich and satisfying reading experience.
Mary’s journey from adolescent optimism to terrible grief and finally literary accomplishment is mapped out in the novel’s well-defined arc. The Creature’s existential contemplations and Mary’s practical hardships interact to create a complex and dramatic story that captivates readers.
Because of its intriguing dual narrative, well-developed characters, and beautiful prose, Creature is a must-read for fans of Gothic literature, historical fiction, and anybody interested in the woman who produced Frankenstein.
5 stars from the Historical Fiction Company and the “Highly Recommended” award of excellence