Right now I'm reading a mystery set in the 1920s, and enjoying it more than most of the rare, nigh unheard-of mysteries I find free on Kindle. But occasionaly I find the worthwhile gem like this, or Burroughs's "The Oakdale Affair," which always makes my searching worthwhile. After this I'm probably going to read "Throne of Fire," by Rick Riordan, which my sister is reading right now. Speaking of my sister, have you read "The Tale of Despereaux"?
Well . . . to each their own, I suppose. XD
At least Hollywood got one thing right: Frankenstein was a madman. Just a raving madman. Sort of like Don Quixote but in an inverse way, Frankenstein is interesting in his own right because he proves the madness beneath seemingly impenetrable reason. But gosh, he was an insufferable child. "Wheee, I'm gonna build sandcastles, no wait I'll build a man, yay I'm God, I can make life, OMG no this thing is terrible make it all go away Mommy, it never happened, it was all a bad dream, oh look he's killing everyone, look what this monster's doing to me he's so mean make it go away, boo-hoo, all right I'm going to tell on him, but nobody'll listen to me, but I won't help him okay I'll help him no I won't, oops he killed my fiancee, well now I'll kill him 'cause all I have left to live for is revenge." In a nutshell, there's the nut that is Frankenstein.