Frankenstein, Volume Two, Chapters Eight and Nine

In which the creature rages against the heavens and vows revenge, murders just a little bit, then asks Victor for one tiny favor in order to leave everyone alone forever.



Here we go, we're picking up steam again! I mean, still plenty of angst and misery, but we're back to the murdery and mad sciencey place again. Yay!

Today's cover goes full-on Karloff:

This doesn't even really pretend to take its imagery from anything other than the movie. There's even a castle! This 1976 edition published by Pocket Books had this here cover done by Mara McAfee (1929-1984). McAfee started out as a minor-league actor in the 1950s before going on to a very well-respected career as an artist and illustrator who did do some literary illustrations like this, but was best known for satirical illustrations for publications like National Lampoon, which often featured her work on the cover. A small selection of her work (including a closer look at this cover) can be viewed here.

Thankfully brief notes after the jump!

Frankenstein, Volume Two, Chapters Five to Seven

In which the creature edumacates himself with incredibly convenient books, relates the unnecessary backstory of his cottagers, reveals himself to them and is disappointed; and in which the narrator assures you that that does indeed span three whole chapters.



Well, it turns out that our chewy nougat center has, I don't know, a thin ribbon of caramel or something running through it, in the form of the cottager's completely superfluous and interminable backstory. Bah. We dug down four levels deep into this nested narrative, now we claw our way back up. First, though, our next cover! This edition was published sometime in the 1990s by Holt, Rinehart and Wilson.

Aww, sad monster.

Mostly literary notes, and a lot of them, after the jump!

Frankenstein, Volume Two, Chapters Three and Four

In which the creature explains how he lived in a forest for a while, was attacked by some villagers for being scary, and shacked up in a hovel where he could spy on a beautiful little poor family he falls in love with; and in which our narrator really wonders about the family not ever looking into the little little hovel attached to their house over the course of several months even though someone's nearby collecting their wood for them, I mean, right?



Okay, so now we've tunneled down through our Frankenbar into the chewy nougat center that is the Creature's Story, and I think that's where our candy bar metaphor reaches its limit. Anyway, this installment's cover is from a Romanian edition by Excelsior-Multi Press from some indefinite year:

This is crazy! We've got the title all drippy and bleeding and stuff, and it looks like we're seeing the monster as his head is being, like, hooked up, on a background of lab equipment and... and is that a... a crocodile? What in the world is that doing there? Was that used for parts or something?

Notes after the jump!

Frankenstein, Volume Two, Chapters One and Two

In which the family Frankenstein takes a field trip to raise their spirits, where Victor takes a solitary sojourn on a glacier and unexpectedly encounters a familiar face who begs to tell his side of the story.



And so starts Volume Two, where we will find out what the creature has been up to over the past several years after being brought to life and promptly abandoned. A few notes, mostly pertaining to places, but first our new cover:

This cover is from an edition published by Signet in 1965, and is rather special to me as the edition in which I myself first read the story, and which still sits on my bookshelf. It does, however, contain the 1832 version, so it's not the one I'm actually reading right now.

I like the impressionistic style of this cover. It emphasizes the monster's human-like but somehow still bestial nature, and gives the whole thing a sort of air of mystery over horror, while still being suitably creepy. It also manages to be somewhat reminiscent of Karloff's monster — the flat-top head, the sunken eyes — while not being an obvious reference to it.

Notes after the jump!

Sense and Sensibility, Volume the Third, Chapter Eight

In which Willoughby attempts to justify his actions, and... and that's about it, actually.



Aww, don't you feel bad for poor Willoughby now? It's not that he didn't care about Marianne, he just cared about money more! Because he had such a tendency to spend beyond his means!

And look at this, while the tiniest violin in the world plays during this one chapter, Willoughby manages to get three whole illustrations:

2:02 - "I entreat you to stay."

In case anyone thought I simply mispronounced the word "luncheon" at 4:49, I did indeed say "nunchion." That is, in fact, the word that "luncheon" came from in the first place, meaning a light meal in the middle of the day or between larger meals, and coming itself (naturally enough) in part from the word "noon."

13:45 - "I was formally dismissed."

20:21 - "I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight."

When Willoughby says that he encountered Sir John in Drury Lane lobby at 27:44, he's referring to the lobby of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, a huge and well-known theater of the time. If I'm not mistaken, its concessions were supplied by a mysterious gentleman known only as "the Muffin Man."

And, I must say, I absolutely love the fact that Sir John brings up the issue of the puppy again, so many chapters later.


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg, and high-res copies of the Thompson illustrations can be found in the British Library's Flickr stream. No reading ahead, though!

Treasure Island, Chapters Twenty-Seven to Twenty-Nine

In which Jim returns to the stockade only to find it occupied by the pirates, who summarily try to depose Long John, who manages to sweet-talk/threaten them into changing their minds, while letting Jim know privately that the jig is up, and in which our narrator might have lost some of his upper register, hopefully to be regained soon.



As usual, here are the notes from the 1908 edition. Really, I feel that some, like "avast" and "batten down your hatches" could be figured out from context, but then again, our culture has had a further century since then to absorb "pirate talk." There might be other things I could probably note, but I'm not feeling so great so y'all can figure things out on your own.

I will, however, share the illustration that comes along with this installment, of the mutinous mutineers (...you heard me) preparing Long John's Black Spot from Dick's Bible:

25:00 - "About half-way down the slope to the stockade, they were collected in a group."

Oh, and maybe I should really prepare myself better for when I come across sentences like "In that position I could easily have my way with him," because HAHAHAAAAA!


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