Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was written during a long hard winter in the snowy slopes of Switzerland. Perhaps that is why, there is just the subtlest hint of cold permeating the whole narrative atmosphere in the story. The ambitious scientist-creator Victor Frankenstein has a lofty ideal in his head as to what his “creature” would look like. He dreams of physical perfection, and is instead left with an eight-foot-tall “thing” whose skin barely covers its muscles and tissues. Repulsed by its ugliness, he abandons “it”.
The most obvious idea that the novel talks abou....