The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein by Peter Ackroyd
353 pages
Published 2008
Read from June 17 to June 18
Rating: ★★★★ out of 5
When an esteemed literary author writes fan fiction, it isn't called fan fiction. It's called a bold postmodern retelling.
When I was 11 or 12, one of my favorite novels was The War of the Worlds,
which had been the first unabridged, unexpurgated "grownup" book I ever
read. With a dim understanding of the concept of public domain,
imparted by my brother, I resolved to rewrite The War of the Worlds
but set it in the modern world of the mid 1990s, in and around Dayton,
Ohio and its suburbs. I envisaged a one-to-one substitution of its
London-area locales with towns and landmarks within the wider Miami
Valley region. The project never got beyond that point, but once or
twice I mused aloud about where each cylinder would hit -- Huber
Heights, Xenia, Vandalia, downtown by the old Elder Beerman store.
The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein is, in that one sense, similar to my old search-and-replace update of Wells' classic text; Ackroyd transplants much of Frankenstein's action to the familiar haunts of historical London, the same streets, landmarks, and places he seems to live and breathe in London: The Biography.
The book is weakest where Ackroyd copies Mary Shelley too faithfully,
particularly the chapter where the creature comes to Frankenstein and
tells the tale of his encounters with humanity. Otherwise, Ackroyd's
telling is delightful, sparkling with character and witty, succinct
conversation. He excels at capturing the flavor of early Romantic prose
without carrying the burden of its monotony. If all fan fiction were as
accomplished and erudite as this, not even I would have a problem with
it.
No comments:
Post a Comment