In some ways I feel that in trying to breathe a new life into the story of Frankenstein, Peter Ackroyd has mostly succeeded only in making his own awkward monster. The beginning of the book is slow, and I was not really drawn in until the creature of the story emerges, mainly because the creature is the only character that I found fully drawn and riveting. It is the only source of real drama; everything else comes off as superfluous. Partly I think this results from Ackroyd's choice to tell the story as a first person narrative with an untrustworthy narrator who in turns obsessed with his work and carrying a major secret. Thus, it is in character for him not to deeply articulate his feelings and be withholding in his relationships with others. Yet, this Victor Frankenstein is no Don Draper, and the supporting cast of literary figures and others do not come off as compelling. I consider this a serious problem since part of the challenge of re-telling a well known tale is finding novel perspectives and twists. That's why, if we were to compare this to recent televised historical fiction, this book is more on par in terms of quality with the Tudors than with Rome. The book jacket has quotes comparing this novel to another classic horror, but as it is told, the book comes off more as a combo of Frankenstein and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. And like the latter book, there is mix of hindsight and foreshadowing early on, but I found it rather one-note and not artfully implemented. That said, the book is a lucid read, and the middle ended up capturing my interest. ( )

Spoiler

I thoroughly enjoyed this book by Peter Ackroyd, but felt let down by the ending and by the dust jacket. The writing was superb and it was probably one of the best written books I've read this year. The story was gripping and scary, but at the same time it provoked sympathy in me. Mostly, I was relishing the idea of a Frankenstein creature that understood its own fate and was intelligent.

However, because of the dust jacket which predicted a twist, I was already reading the book looking for a twist and I already had half a mind that the creature was a figment of Frankenstein's imagination. I wish the jacket wouldn't have predicted the twist. Then I thought Shelly was the real monster, followed by Byron. But all the time, I knew it was Frankenstein and I guess I was hoping that the creature was real.

If Shelly's Frankenstein is a story about the creation of the Monster, then Ackroyd's The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein could be the creation of the creator. I found this an interesting take on the idea of Frankenstein and his monster, and the ending was one of the very few endings that had me really considering the entire book as a whole. Not many books do that for me. I can't wait until I pick this up again and reread it in order to pick up on the smaller details that I'm sure I overlooked the first time around. An enjoyable read, especially for anyone who likes the original. ( )

Peter Ackroyd's fan fic book "The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein: A Novel" for some reason did not strike my fancy. While this was an interesting take on the famous story, the writing was ambitious but dry. There were good parts of the story; well written and quick to read, but for the most part, in my opinion, the book fell flat. Ackroyd does his best to bring characters to life with a new angle in which characters are exposed to the plot, but it is a rather tough going. I do think that new eyes could counter my personal stance, but for this reader, the only Victor Frankenstein for me is Mary Shelley's. ( )

What if Victor Frankenstein had left university at Ingolstadt and taken up residence at Oxford, where he met and befriended Percy Bysshe Shelley? Ackroyd moves the Frankenstein story mostly to England, where it settles in surprisingly well. There's a good deal of solid research (not surprising for Ackroyd) on the science of the era, particularly electricity and galvanism, and a couple of plot twists that I particularly enjoyed, one playing with an alternative but not uncommon interpretation of Mary Shelley's text and the other with the source of the creature's, er, raw material. This is clearly an "alternative history" as both fictional characters (Victor's family) and real ones (the Shelley circle) have altered backgrounds and relationships at times. The major disappointment for me was that the creature's narrative was a far less significant portion of the book than it is in the original. Because I read what I read and teach what I teach, this book delighted me from start to finish, though there's darkness and obsession in plenty. ( )