It was an assigned reading in 11th grade. When I finally finished it, I remember feeling like my skin was crawling, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess - I was questioning everything, how I viewed others and how they viewed me, was it right or wrong, how would I have behaved in those situations…
I remember l just staring out my bedroom window into the pitch black night for an hour just digesting it all. I also remember sleeping with the lights on because I was a little creeped out.
Being an impressionable teen probably helped, but that book left a profound impact on my way of thinking about how I interact with the world and the people in it.
It was also my gateway book to classic literature and how good it can actually be!
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.
It was an assigned reading in 11th grade. When I finally finished it, I remember feeling like my skin was crawling, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess - I was questioning everything, how I viewed others and how they viewed me, was it right or wrong, how would I have behaved in those situations…
I remember l just staring out my bedroom window into the pitch black night for an hour just digesting it all. I also remember sleeping with the lights on because I was a little creeped out.
Being an impressionable teen probably helped, but that book left a profound impact on my way of thinking about how I interact with the world and the people in it.
It was also my gateway book to classic literature and how good it can actually be!