Frankenstein, Volume Three, Chapter Three

In which Victor changes his mind, re: monsters, creating another, and the monster vows revenge, whereupon Victor gets lost at sea and ends up in a land of terrible accents; and in which the narrator apologizes for his terrible accents.



Things are heating up now! Someone's dead! I wonder if the monster had anything to do with it. Probably! No notes this time around, thankfully after last time, so two covers for you here, both from Classics Illustrated:

 

Yes, LOOK AT THIS THING! The lightning font! The perspective that makes it look like the monster is Godzilla-sized! The armpit lightning! Man, this is just fantastic. This is the original line drawing cover of Classics Illustrated number 26, with cover and interior art by Robert H. "Bob" Webb and Ann Brewster. It was first published in 1945 under the banner of Classic Comics, but since this specific cover cost a full fifteen cents and is under the Classics Illustrated banner (the changed the name in 1947), it's probably from the 1951 reprint.

Around 1953, CI decided to update their look by replacing the line drawings with painted covers, and this included replacing the covers of reprints of back issues, leading to this one:

 Here we get to see a scene not usually depicted on covers: the monster being pursued across the polar wastes by Victor in his dogsled. See him back there? He looks like he's waving! Anyway, this cover first appeared in September 1958 and was by Norman Saunders, who you might remember from his saucy "Famous Fantastic Mysteries" Time Machine cover.

That wraps it up for now! Come back next time for Victor's Irish adventure, apparently!


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Frankenstein, Volume One, Chapter Seven

In which Justine goes to trial for William's murder, it goes about as well as can be expected, but Victor makes sure to let us all know that his suffering is the worst of everyone; and in which the narrator is STILL not dead.



Hi-ho, everyone! Yup, still not dead, and here with another installment of Frankenstein. This is a rather short one, as we come to the end of Volume One after only a chapter, but now we start getting into the real angsty stuff. No notes this time around(!), and we're all out of illustrations, so here's our new vintage cover:

Holy hell, how great is this thing? A 1932 printing from Illustrated Editions, with cover (and interior illustrations) by Nino Carbé. Carbé later went on to be an animator at Disney and worked on films such as Fantasia, Bambi, and Pinocchio, though he primarily ended up working as a children's book illustrator. And yes, that's the face of his monster, definitely playing up the "daemon" aspect of Victor's narration. Interestingly, while this was done after the 1931 movie (and, in fact, probably published to capitalize on its popularity), Karloff's monster had not become quite iconic enough to completely overtake designs of the monster, as it later would. It is, however, probably responsible for Carbé putting electrodes in the monster's neck. Man, I wish these illustrations were in the public domain. I would've LOVED to use them here. Ah well.


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Frankenstein, Volume One, Chapters Five and Six

In which Victor returns to health, letters arrive from loved ones, Elizabeth expounds at length on the history of a person whom Victor really already knows, tragedy strikes, and Victor figures it's probably his fault but eh, it'll probably end up working out this time, right? And in which the narrator assures you that he, too, will not stay dead.



Lookit that, we're back! This was actually recorded in part over a month ago, but only just completed last night (in case the sound between the two chapters sounds different or anything. Unfortunately, I appear to have, uh, misplaced my notes for Chapter 5, and my computer just ate my notes for Chapter 6, so I'm gonna have to go back through and listen to find out what notes are needed and where. I'll post 'em up here soon as I can!

In the meantime, here's today's cover, from a 1963 edition from Airmont Classics.Boy, this is a good one! I love that we've got Victor being all broody amongst his laboratory equipment that is also a graveyard, with the subtle grim specter of the creature's (Karloff-inspired) face looming in the background. This is also a great example of stock lab equipment in art. Want to show people your character is a "scientist"? Put some colored liquid into some flasks -- round-bottom and Erlenmeyer are especially popular, though I'm surprised there aren't any retorts there -- a smoking crucible over some kind of a burner, probably, and a mortar and pestle and boom! Science!


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Around the World in Eighty Days, Chapters Thirty-Four to Thirty-Seven

In which Passepartout is given the opportunity of letting out some atrocious, but perhaps unpublished, words; Passepartout does not have repeated to him twice the order his master gives him; "Phileas Fogg" is again at a premium in the market; and it is proved that Phileas Fogg has gained nothing by making this tour of the world, unless it be happiness; and in which our narrator is not entirely sure he remembered the correct (terrible) voices for Phileas Fogg's Reform Club friends.



No notes for these last few short chapters, but we do have a final three illustrations:

8:45 - “He found in the letter box a note from the gas company.”

22::00 - "'Gentlemen, here I am!"

22:50 - "His hair disordered, hatless, running, running..."

As I mention in the recording, one does wonder how exactly our party gained a full day without noticing. I mean, no, the International Date Line didn't officially exist yet, but in practice that extra day should've shown up as soon as they landed in The United States and tried to catch one of their trains or boats a day before it departed. But maybe I'm just nitpicky.

And that's all for Around the World in Eighty Days, which has now taken its proper place upon the Bookshelf! Come back soon for a short story interlude, followed by a brand new book. Thanks for listening!


If you would like to read along, my translation by Stephen W. White can be found courtesy of Choptank Press on Google Books. If you prefer one of the other options, the George Towle translation can be found at Zvi Har’El’s Jules Verne Collection, which is also where I got the illustrations, or the more accurate but rather fusty Henry Frith translation can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Around the World in Eighty Days, Chapters Fifteen to Seventeen

In which the bag with the bank notes is relieved of a few thousand pounds more; Fix has not the appearance of knowing anything about the matters concerning which they talk to him; one thing and another is talked about during the trip from Singapore to Hong Kong; and in which the narrator is pleased that he gets to use his jowly voice, because he likes his jowly voice.



That's enough of India! on to Hong Kong! And welcome to our new major cast member, Mrs. Auoda (and yes, she's "Mrs." in the book, even though she was unwillingly wed and her husband is now dead, but WHATEVER, Nineteenth Century.)

6:15 - "'My shoes!' cried Passepartout."

12:09 - "On every occasion she showed him the liveliest gratitude."

21:15 - "Once or twice only he had a glimpse of Mr. Fogg."

24:03 - "It is charming, even in its meagerness."

Weirdly, no notes this time around. I guess it all seemed more or less straightforward. Maybe I'll take that time to make a correction: In the first installment, I gave some current values for the sums of money being discussed, to put them into context we can understand in 2014. Well, I think I calculated them the wrong way 'round. See, I used an inflation calculator to figure out what the value would be in modern British money, then used current exchange rates to figure out what that would be in US dollars. Upon reflection, it would probably be more accurate to convert the amounts to dollars using historical exchange rates, and then use inflation to bring it up to the modern day. Doing this, we see that the £55,000 stolen from the bank would actually be about $5.7 million today, and the £20,000 wager translates to about $2 million today. Slightly less than my initial estimation, but still pretty considerable sums of money.

Hmm. Actually, that math works out pretty well. Looks like any time you hear an amount in pounds in this book, multiply by 100 and you'll get a pretty close estimate of what it would be in modern dollars. That's easy.


If you would like to read along, I unfortunately can't find my translation by Stephen W. White online, but the George Towele translation can be found at Zvi Har’El’s Jules Verne Collection, which is also where I got the illustrations, or the more accurate but rather fusty Henry Frith translation at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Around the World in Eighty Days, Chapters Four to Eight

In which Phileas Fogg surprises Passepartout, his servant, beyond measure; a new security appears on the London Exchange; the agent, Fix, shows a very proper impatience; we are shown once more the uselessness of passports in police matters; and Passepartout perhaps talks a little more than is proper; and in which our narrator assures you that there will be a speaking female character at some point.



All right, we're well and firmly on our journey now, and our heroes have used up nearly seven of their eighty days. And see, I told you that robbery was going to be important! We've got a few more illustrations from Messrs. de Neuville and Benett, along with a couple of notes:

5:17 - A poor beggar woman.

At 7:42, mention is made of "the Alabama affair" as a matter of much discussion. During the American Civil War, ships outfitted and sailed from British docks (especially a ship called Alabama) were used as military vessels by the Confederate navy, despite Britain's official stance of neutrality. The North, after winning the war, claimed that the British had not exercised due diligence, so in 1871 a joint commission was created to settle the matter. They found for the Americans and awarded damages, a result which the British people were... not fans of.

8:39 - There was not a reader, to whatever class he belonged,
who did not devour the columns devoted to Phileas Fogg.

And here we meet the redoubtable Detective Fix:

Detective Fix

Around the 14:00 mark, we have references to "M. Lesseps" and "Stephenson, the engineer. These are Ferdinand Marie, Vicomte de Lessep, a French diplomat best known for spearheading the development of the Suez canal that features so prominently here, and Robert Stephenson, a prominent English civil engineer who was brought in to evaluate the feasibility of the project.

At 16:45, Mr. Fix bemoans the current timid state of British criminals by making mention of Jack Sheppard, an English thief of the early 1700s who was notorious for having escaped from custody four times before being caught a final fifth time and hanged, all before his 23rd birthday. Plays and novels about him or with characters clearly based on him kept him in the British public consciousness long after his death.

On the docks of Suez, around 17:46, we meet a crowd of fellahs, who are Middle Eastern or Northern African agricultural workers, and then the British consul refers to "breaking bulk," which basically means unloading some individual pieces of cargo.

20:20 - After having vigorously pushed back the fellahs
who overwhelmed him with their offers of service....

28:00 - "My watch! A family watch...."

If you would like to read along, I unfortunately can't find my translation by Stephen W. White online, but the George Towele translation can be found at Zvi Har’El’s Jules Verne Collection, which is also where I got the illustrations, or the more accurate but rather fusty Henry Frith translation at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Anne of Green Gables, Chapters Sixteen and Seventeen

In which Anne and Diana have a lovely tea that ends in tragic debauchery and the girls are forbidden from seeing each other again, they bid farewell and express their love for each other in a manner that reads somewhat differently in modern times, at which point Anne decides to return to school where she'll show them, she'll show them all.



Ms. Montgomery has an interesting tendency to quote within the narration, which I hope is coming across as I'm reading. As Anne is lamenting that Diana is not acknowledging her whatsoever in school (before receiving Diana's note), we hear "The Caesar's pageant shorn of Brutus' bust / Did but of Rome's best son remind her more," which is a quote from Lord Byron's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, but a quick Google search on it comes up with Anne of Green Gables nearly as often as Byron. Who's the bigger romantic now, huh?

This time around we've got a French edition from 2008 entitled Anne et le bonheur, which, near as I can translate, means "Anne and happiness," which I suppose sums it all up, in a way. I am a bit unsure as to whether this is in fact Anne of Green Gables proper or not, despite being tagged as such in this cover gallery, as a search brings up this French Wikipedia page listing the French title of Green Gables as Anne... La maison aux pignons verts, which looks like it makes a lot more sense. None of the other books in the series are listed as Anne et le bonheur, though, and all other pages I get as search results are in French. Any French speakers want to take a crack at this?

Anywho, I mostly wanted to post this one because, while I'm certainly no expert on fashion history, Anne's outfit here makes me think less of 1908 and more like she's about to toss her hat up in a freeze frame.


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

Anne of Green Gables, Chapters Twelve to Fourteen

In which Anne makes a bosom friend in Diana Barry, and scandal rocks Green Gables by means of a pic-a-nic and a brooch, and in which our narrator tries not to snicker at the word "bosom."



Nothing really jumped out at me as needing a note in this one, and we won't be getting another illustration until next time (but it'll be a doozy!) so here's another cover, this one from a 1970 Japanese edition. Fun fact: Did you know that Anne of Green Gables is weirdly popular in Japan? Apparently, it's been on their national school curriculum since 1952, so pretty much every person born and educated in Japan since World War II ended has read this book. Of course, I don't know if this completely explains why it's caught on there the way it has; I mean, there must have been some special appeal to get put on the curriculum in the first place, and surely not every book placed on there has become so popular, right?

Nine years after this edition was printed, Nippon Animation put out what appears to be an astonishingly comprehensive anime adaptation where what the crap is up with Anne's head holy geez she looks like the next stage in human evolution seriously wow. Anyway, it's apparently pretty good.

Also, let's back up a sec, two links back, did you see that? There's a real Green Gables, and a freakin' Anne of Green Gables THEME PARK up in Prince Edward Island. Seriously, we need more theme parks based on books.


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!